He's almost a good foot taller than her and even broader, so her hand definitely gets a little swallowing done. Her grip is firm, her hand... somewhat soft, though slightly cooler than a person's hand should be. Like someone who'd gone out bare-handed in the winter.

Then again, it is cold here.

A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I thought you looked Scandinavian." His accent's still not quite right for it, but she wasn't a linguist. How would she know how far accents drifted over... what, more than two hundred years? She's still satisfied with her guess. "A pleasure to meet you, in any case."