"That is what matters, I think. Trying." Whether born more of the alcohol floating merrily through her bloodstream or the fact that after so many wonders it was easier than she might have thought to find herself speaking to the strange creature, sympathy rose easy within her. Perhaps it was that, after all that had happened, she was still too soft for her own good.

At that moment it did not seem to matter that she had fallen through from 17th century Paris and Baymax was from...some place with an institute with a strange name. "Is that where you're from? Transfr- Fanst-" she paused, brows drawing together at her own inability to make her tongue shape the strange name before she simply shrugged helplessly and hoped it would fill in the blank for her.