And just like that, Richard is ostensibly free of her. Wysteria's arm remains at that slightly awkward angle, retaining the memory of where they'd been hooked together, though she allows the rearrangement of her hand without taking her eyes from ex-messenger snake. There is something transfixed about her attention - as if she is at once studying the muscular undulation of those linked dark scales and also looking beyond them. Like the snake is a magic eye puzzle, and she is slowly drawing the picture back from her nose.

(And like she doesn't quite buy the claim that any such creature is harmless, but that is neither here nor there.)

"Who did she talk to before?" Her focus breaks. She blinks at him. "—Any command?"