[ He picks up on the way her smile looks considerably less easy as he asks his question, but he isn’t observant nor empathetic enough to estimate the reason why it might have changed so. He supposes she could be unhappy with the world she comes from – uncomfortable with her place in it, perhaps, or struggling to find her way? It’s not an impossible concept, even if it is a little difficult to imagine such a dreary world view afflicting this chipper thing. He wonders, then, why she hadn’t just lied about it. He wouldn’t know any better unless he dipped into her thoughts, after all. Unless she’s incapable of lying or something terrible like that. What a curse that would be. ]

Ah, I see.

[ Apparently it’s his turn to let his smile go a little rigid in response. He and God have never really been on the best of terms, and he has half a mind to tell her that Gods probably don’t exist in any world— but he knows better than to start that kind of miserable argument at parties. ]

I meant more in the way of… well, you said you have a version of France, non? Do you have other places? Germany, Spain? America?