[ the fall should have been the least concerning thing in all of this, having done enough flying through the years now to feel the magic simply act on its own in reflexive response when it's needed. except it hadn't been as naturally as it shouldn't normally been, even if the spasm of that disappearance had only lasted for a mere few seconds. it's a feeling that shouldn't be existing at all.

wanda turns her head up to the voice that responds to her, unfamiliar with the woman that stands there. when the hand reaches out, she merely stares at it for a moment as if to question her trust in it — because that's somehow become a more difficult thing to find these days.

still, with caution, she takes the hand, accepting its aid in straightening back on her feet. ]

Physically? I'm perfectly fine. [ even if she had hit the ground, she could simply take care of her own wounds with ease, couldn't she? at least she used to. ] But something isn't right. My ... abilities — they feel wrong somehow.

[ how could she even explain it to a stranger? ]

It's some kind of trap. I'm sure of it.