Mac's seen the weird centaur guy in passing, but it didn't actually occur to him that the guy was a person until he heard him talk. He just assumed he was a giant pet or pack animal or maybe a Muppet. It's one thing to accept a talking giant rabbit or whatever; those are at least Earth-shaped. It's another to try and wrap one's head around the idea that this clearly alien being might be a teammate and not just an animated coatrack.

He stumbles on Alloran by accident, honestly. Mac typically doesn't get up before ten, a habit he credits to working "late nights" but which is more a function of laziness and the fact that his alarm clock's been broken for half a decade. He's only awake now, here wandering the gardens, because the entirety of...this...has upset his usual routines and replaced deep drunken slumber with listless tossing and turning punctuated with intermittent and incoherent nightmares. As such, he's stretching his legs, slid into a non-regulation sleeveless uniform that he's missed a belt loop or two on. Stretching his legs and keeling around for company, which he finds in an unexpectedly inhuman and blue source.

"Amen." He presses his hands together and nods his head. "Dude, that's a hardcore psalm. Real badass."