[ He looks so absolutely baffled by the notion of people without anything extra that Blake can't quite quash a small smile, oddly delighted by the concept: a world where everybody is like her, in some way. ]

Nothing. Their hearing is quite bad, they can't see very well in the dark, or breathe underwater. Their minds and hearts and souls are the same as ours, but they have nothing extra, physically.

[ She takes a few steps away to take a bowl of soup from a nearby booth, trading a word of thanks with the Arcane Scholar at it, and she holds the bowl out toward Młynar, eyebrows creased with gentle concern. ]

Here, have this. I can see you've found some of your belongings, but the confusion can last a few hours. How are you feeling?