Thelema almost feels badly when he bounces off of her and topples right over--she hadn't anticipated him being quite that delicate--but he's back on his feet before her surprise settles, and she blinks at him with a slight tilt of her head. He's definitely strange, not only for the village, but in general; the stories of magic are certainly true, there's no question of that, but he seems somehow ill-suited to it. For all the talk of him bearing curses for others, he seems more burdened with one of his own and worn thin from bearing it.

She smiles reassuringly, but only has a chance to nod in the affirmative to his question before he's realizing out loud that she's not exactly a local (she certainly doesn't look like one). She giggles softly at his flustered, self-conscious rambling, delicately placing her hand in his, palm-down. He's welcome to shake it if he wants, but it's oriented perfectly for him to kiss it instead, if he'd rather, her blue eyes bright and inviting as they meet his.

"Ah, thank you, although I am only visiting. My name is Thelema. I am very pleased to meet you, Bruno."

Her accent is certainly distinctive and more than a little exotic; the Encanto hasn't exactly seen a huge number of Eastern Europeans.

"And, it is quite all right... I should have been more careful as well, yes? You were not hurt when you fell, I hope..?"

She certainly didn't miss that mention of ten years, but she files it away for the moment, focused on warm and comforting introductions.