“Hm,” Strange says, but it’s a noise of agreement. Yeah. Probably.

And it occurs to him, then, in all that Mobius is inquisitive and thoughtful and a good listener and always eager to hear about rifter life, that Strange has spent a godawful amount of time talking about himself. It’s been easy enough to chalk it down to well, they’re locals, but New York is not Los Angeles just as Kirkwall is not Denerim, is not Minrathous, and their organisation has been drawing people to it from all over. He knows by now that Mobius used to be a templar, but the shape of the rest of his story is an unknown.

“How long have you been with Riftwatch, anyway?”