"Morton's just the brand," Ronstadt said patiently. "And salt's protective against evil magic. That's where the superstition of throwing some over your shoulder if you spill it comes from. ... If they have that where you're from."

He followed Alec's gaze, curious if there was anything interesting up there or the guy was just looking up to try and think.

"Not knowing if you exist ... yeah." He breathed out, remembering the months he'd spent on the road, looking for answers and finding only more questions, being waved off or just plain looked through. "I know how that feels. For what it's worth, you sure look like you do to me."

He reached out and gave Alec's arm a gentle poke.

"Now, if neither of us exist, that's a different story entirely and we're just figments of someone's imagination. All I know is, my life's been getting weirder every day, and the only thing I can do is keep rolling with it."