She's her? She says she's her. But that can't be. He grips a hand into the bit of shirt over his pusher.

"...Comprehension prevails in efforts to allude, my sister. My heart keeper, my best friend, she doth claim to be she in former and name. Yet before me she stands reticent and spiritless, of adult sobriquet and structure, with no insight offered in time of this unholy deliverance." He sounds confused, hurt.

He steps forward suddenly, reaching out with a hand.

"Meulin--"