[Hm—minotaurs. Demeisen absorbs the word neutrally, with a little shrug that implies he might remember for next time, or he might not bother. The manor staff aren’t from Matt’s world, are they? As far as Demeisen can tell, most of the people in Kenos were born right here, which suggests that these bovine-headed people likely have their own word for what they are, and frankly, he hasn’t cared to learn that either.

The topic of hungry shadows is far more interesting, regardless.]

Almost unquestionably, in so much as everything here is related to it in some way. It’s the premise upon which this reality was made, from what I understand.

[He waves his hand—stubby fingered, like it has too few joints—in a vague gesture. There’s something a little off about him, upon inspection. Shoulders and upper spine that seem too hunched; a waist that sits a little too high on his body, leading to startlingly long legs; a face that seems foreign in some unplaceable way.]

But I can only piece together so much. Assuming you’re freshly revented, I’ve been here maybe a couple weeks longer than you.