[As is the rest of the domain, the gazebo is beautiful. She wonders at the world he's from, for him to conjure such miraculous flora. She reaches out to draw her fingers along the delicate ivy as she moves up the steps, touch gentle and almost hesitant.

Her attention returns to him at the question, her smile growing more at ease. She, too, enjoys leaning about the worlds of other Summoned, and has no qualms sharing details of her own.]

Themyscira is an island, governed by a queen and a senate. [Not quite a kingdom, not quite a country (as one would understand it). She doesn't share that the Queen is her mother; she's already learned that it is, in another's words, "coming on too strong" to do so.

She tilts her head back to look at the wooden ceiling, catching the sparkling of ivy leaves through minuscule gaps in the boards.]

And where are you from, where the plants grow like gemstones and the trees speak to the heart?