**Cynn Ellime**

Pitch's question caught Cynn off-guard, making her reel back in her chair. Her hand had started to go up to cover the scar on her neck when she heard a deep, Orcish voice. She turned to see Tyrael, who was asking Pitch and herself to help him with something. Well, "asking" wasn't the right term for it; it was more of a polite command.

"Oh! H-hi, Mister T-Tyrael," she stammered out in her usual quiet voice. "I can help, I th-think... But...I mean, it...might be sort of...slow, I guess? I'm still r-recovering from my...uh...my coma..." That word didn't come out easily, but she couldn't just hint at it. She doubted such an important College official really knew much about her former condition.