A hand is brought up to her chest as she let out a calming sigh, willing her pulse to settle just a little. And then he's given an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, no, it, ah… you are very light on your feet," Clementiya commented with a sheepish chuckle - though she's fascinated as his mask changes color. No, not just color, but reflectiveness, going matte to metallic. The artist wondered briefly at it, about what sort of works could be made with color-shifting - perhaps outright animating paintings? - before deciding to instead focus on her guest.

The Inquisitor blinked at his cheery attitude, not entirely certain the reason behind his wanting converse. "Well... at least you shall survive your training." She remarked passively - the opposite wasn't uncommon, in her experience.

“Yeah, sure.” Gallus grumbles as he vents his plasma gun. “You thank me now but I just know you’re going to be a terrible patient later. Just remember that you’re a perpetual, and I know that, so I will withhold painkillers if you piss me off.” A fellow Revenant stares at Gallus for that remark, his unmoving helmet conveying horrified disbelief somehow.

She gave him a brief side-eye, but otherwise seemed unbothered by his threat. "Understood."

In truth, Alethea was a decently easy patient - save for getting her to actually rest for as long as she should. Even with her faster-than-baseline healing, she'd often get restless before fully recovered and try to return to her routine. Daily physical exercise included.

The cold. She liked the cold. Not like the rest of her retinue that were staggering behind her, chattering their fangs despite their thick fur-coats shielding them from the whipping ice-winds of Norsca. But she did not mind it, just as long as she kept tightening her own coat around her body. The cold reminded her of the cold embrace of death that she wielded, how its life-extinguishing chill tingled upon her fingertips whenever she used it...

"Stop snivel-whining, clanrats!" she'd whip her head around with a soft hiss at her subordinates, who cowed and bowed their heads low at the words of their Grey Seer. "We are not far-far away now, yes-yes. Ashiiq can sense-feel it..." they had come here for a specific goal anyhow, and she was to see it through...

He says nothing.

"Oho, now that is fascinating~! A Norscan, collaborating with one of the children of the Old Ones~ Most intriguing indeed..." Qhi'zhek muses with an entertained chuckle, inquisitive mirth spreading across his face as he just looks down at the Norscan, leaning onto his staff.

"Well, just because you work with a Lizardman does not mean you're completely free of the taint of Chaos. Like I said; weeping sores of Chaos energies. No matter your proximity, it will affect the land, and in time, you as well. We'll be drawn to you on occasions. But no... I am not here for any type of alluring reasons..." he playfully shrugs.

"I am simply bored. And thought that you'd strike as a decent conversationalist!"