Misha dipped her head, not looking straight at Cam but turning to look at Thelma, then Psychemon. Her hands snaked out and sat on top of Thelma's cap; wrapped loosely around Psychemon's horn. She gave half of a smile and shrugged.

"They tried, but I wasn't really listening," she said in explanation. More like she was still far too out of it from the fall into Terminal Tokyo to pay attention. It was hard to take in new information when the entirety of your childhood drama was buzzing around in your head.