“Oh, I met a couple demigods once,” Strange says brightly, practically perking up. “They were from Asgard, though, not Arizona. May wonders never cease.” The carriage rumbles as it rolls over a bump in the road, and they all lurch and wobble for a second; he readjusts his position on the seat, cloak still clutched in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position for the rest of the ride. God, how he already misses his portals. His hand feels naked without the sling ring which could’ve made this trip fly by in a second.

“So you’re a… rifter, too?” He picks his way through the unfamiliar terminology like it’s a foreign language, the word still new on his tongue. “What kind of world are you from?”

He doesn’t quite realise he’s doing it, but now that he’s familiar with the concept of different universes as a whole, part of him is already starting to catalogue the different worlds he’s ever heard of or passed through, filing them away for reference and comparison. As far as Strange is concerned, he’s just accidentally smashed through another pane of glass in the multiverse and landed in Thedas. Business as usual, at least for now.