“Fair point. It’s not like I’ve really known any gods to swoop in and bother to intervene and do the heroic thing besides Thor.” Strange considers, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

There are still so many questions he wants to ask her, but perhaps he shouldn’t treat this meeting as an ongoing interrogation, mining Gwenaëlle for everything she can tell him about this world. There’ll be time in future for more of that, he thinks.

“Thank you for the information. And the demonstration.” He tips his head toward the bow, that crisp bite of frost in the air. Lightly: “If I wind up dredging any swamps, I’ll let you know. Maybe there’s more treasures in the bog somewhere.”