Saturday snorts at his comment, on account it's true but not actually funny. "I'm an elf," she says straightforwardly. "I guess you'd call where I'm from the Sixth World, and if that doesn't sound familiar then I guess we're not from the same place."

There's a decent chance he is from her neck of the metaplanes. Just about every other mythical creature turned out to be real or real enough, and someone somewhere probably believes in bunnymen. His accent is making her think of the word "bunyip," but that's not very useful because she can't actually remember what those are (something about water holes?), and it could just be a coincidence.

Either way, she can't place him any more than he can her. But if he wants to be forthright about, she's got no problem.

"What are you, then?"