Daine actually sees it happen, which is a new one. She's walking through the park, enjoying the weather — spring comes so early here; she's been away from Snowsdale for ages, but part of her still marvels when the snow doesn't hang on until the end of May — and then someone just... appears. She's looking at a squirrel, and then the view is abruptly blocked by a two-legger: tall and gangly and flinching from the light as if it's blinded them.

"Oh!" Daine changes course at once, picking up her pace when the poor person starts to crumple, first to their knees, then on all fours, and then they topple onto their side as if horribly dizzy. Daine isn't quick enough to stop it, and she comes to an awkward halt beside them. Goddess, they... he?... looks terrible. Not just ill and miserable, but dressed in something barely recognizable as a suit (her Ma would've consigned it to rags by this point). And are those rocks in his hair?

Never mind that for now. Daine drops into a careful crouch, her face etched with pity. "Hey," she says gently, pitching her voice the way she would if she was working with a frightened creature that needed healing. He doesn't seem to be injured, or at least he's not bleeding, but he's plainly frightened. "It's okay. You're safe. You're safe."