"Baba Yaga," Nova repeats, waving an impatient hand. It doesn't matter. He considers the bowl of liquid and then sighs, accepting the sacrifice he's about to make. Shrugging out of his sweatshirt, Nova can only remind himself that it's not even really Superdry, since brands don't actually seem to exist out here. Oversized as it is on him, it'll cover her like a dress.

"My apartment's a couple floors up. I guess this one's where you're gonna be living." He tosses her the hoodie and waits.