Something is not quite right, but Azem doesn't question it. She is where she is, and that's where she is most needed. It doesn't take long to discover why she's needed in this foreign place. There is a child nearby, frightened and alone save for the creation of shadow that remains by the girl's side.

Azem walks steadily toward her, steps faltering as she brings a hand to her face to check for— For what? It takes her a moment to recall. Mask and hood. But that is not the way of things here, in this grim and quiet reality.

Once that's settled, Azem continues forward with renewed confidence, long auburn hair flowing freely behind her like a cloak until finally she halts a polite distance from the little girl. With the drastic differences in their sizes she takes great care not to seem as though she's a looming presence, yet makes no move to crouch or sit until she is given permission.

"Hello," she greets, voice ever so soft; gentle and lilting like a song. She remembers what it was like to feel lost and alone. It was part of why she had dreamed of being a mother one day—to have a family of her own, and never feel alone in the world again. "Is it all right if I join you and your friend, little one?"