[ She takes the seat without protest, setting her backpack on the floor beside her, and unzips her coat so some of the heat from the fire can get in. The chill from the fog is still deep within her bones, but she can still try to enjoy the fire despite this place trying to freeze her to death. ]

I'll be fine. [ The assurance is offered without petulance; she isn't brushing him off, she really will be fine. ] Tea would be nice, though. Thank you.

[ Taking a moment to look around the room, she considers the description he's given her of their location. It, too, reminds her of FitzSimmons, but there's something else in it that also reminds her of Enoch. It's just a hunch, but so long as she phrases the question correctly, she should be able to get to the root of what she wants to know. ] Where are you from? You have a very distinct way of speaking.