"Wait, really? Literally, really, dragons?" Brigitte's s already grinning, her curiosity piqued. "Oh my god, Reinhardt would have gone insane with jealousy."

It's the first time she's actually said his name aloud, and she doesn't realise it.

"I don't know anyone here. I mean, of course I know people here," she waves her spoon at the smithy around them, the place that's rapidly become her second home, "But not from my world. I like all of you at the forge, though. I'm glad we're here." The gathering feels properly cozy, after all: the buzz of conversation, the smell of home-cooked food. It's good.