The point on skin colour leaves her bewildered for a moment, brows furrowing more than she means them too. Not quite guarded enough, it seems, as she chews the inside of her cheek and stores the information away for later contemplation. No elves? It seemed a sorry state for any world, though something in Cosima's tone makes her suspect that it is not necessarily a world that lost or destroyed all their elves. She might suspect that was what the people of Thedas desired, if not for elves being so convenient as slaves or servants or as the ones all others could beat without reprise.

"Our world possesses cautionary tales of its own," she finally replies, and though there's no smile to speak of, no shadow of one, Herian's expression is a little gentler. More understanding, at least.

It isn't so much that Herian was tense, but that there was a certain element of caution in her, fascination and faint edges of concern mixed together. That concern eases away when Cosima says, outright, that she has no desire to influence. Just as the tension was a subtle thing so too is its easing, though not imperceptible.

"I think I understand. It sounds fascinating. Complex," she admits, "but fascinating. How do you better grasp their development? Observation?"