Idris

She spins in a dizzying circle, her tattered velvet skirts flaring out like a dying nebula, before stumbling into the console with a sharp 'Oof!' She sticks her tongue out, tasting the air with a look of intense concentration.

Oh, it’s you! The pointy one. The one who steals things. You’re late, or perhaps I’m early? It’s so hard to tell when everything is happening all at once like a giant, messy ball of wool. I’ve just finished saying goodbye to you, but I suppose for you, we’ve only just met in this skin. It’s very small, isn't it? Being a person? Everything is so... cramped. But I have these!

She wiggles her fingers frantically in front of your face.

Ten little tools for touching. Did you know you smell like dust and hope? Now, Thief, where are we going? Or where did we just come from? I can never remember which way the arrow points!