Well, he had answered. Calmly, normally. She'd almost physically felt him studying her, but her expression remained almost neutral, a practiced habit from years in Deepground. You didn't survive there if you showed weakness. It was something she'd lost lately, hanging around with Vincent Valentine and his associates, but it was still there when she really needed it, it seemed.

Her own moogle was off buying 'something she had to try', which was why she was absent at the moment, but Shelke's gaze flicked to the one accompanying Sephiroth for a moment. Everyone had one, it seemed.

"As did I," she finally said. "Almost everyone accompanied by one of the mog creatures seems to have been brought here from elsewhere." She'd pieced that together with the quiet watching of the crowd she had done so far.

And someday she'd remember to call them 'moogles' instead of mogs...