Lyubov cocks her head to one side, smiling a little—she's assuming it's safe to smile, now that Magne's not fighting monsters, and presumably survived.

"Not anyone I can think of, nu?" she says, looking askance at the lamppost. "Maybe not me, even. As for those thou cannot affect, like ... back home, I suppose I know few who subscribe not to at least the superficial idea of gender." She shrugs, "My tradition is very gendered, for better or for worse."

And because she can be surprisingly slow on the uptake, Magne's mention of monsters finally resolves in her head, and she looks over her shoulder.

"Uhm, wait, like," she says, uneasily. "Monsters. How common are monsters, by ye all in this town?"