Itera glanced at Ceidon as if he was some curiously insane breed of animal and cocked an eyebrow. If it were something like a pouch, a human might have drawn it open, rifed through it, and started pronouncing the contents as they came up. If she had an excellent memory, she might have started listing off things directly. Itera wasn't human, it wasn't a simple purse-bag, and she had a memory as lazy as she was. So as to give herself time to think and because she saw absolutely no reason to rush anything while being carried around on Inwuhou's back, she drank her tea.

The pocket dimension created by her manipulation of the Boundary of Inside and Outside was, strictly speaking, of finite size. It was very small, too, only about five feet on a side. The unusual thing was that it was a tesseract and so the quantity of cubes that could be fit into it was partially infused with infinity. Every place in that pocket was suspended in a deep violet abyss and surrounded by numerous red eyes. They were Itera's eyes, because this realm is part of her. The exact physics behind someone sleeping in a room that is inside the same person presently eludes written description.

When Inwuhou set off after Ceidon, Itera refilled her cup set off on the very long list of things that she's stolen and bought. Mostly stolen. There was no order to the list because she sees everything inside her at once.

"My tea kettle, a porcelain-covered pewter bathtub sized for two, with feet in the shape of half pumpkins, a pair of mummified rabbits that starved to death after I forgot about them, two large bottles of pickled radishes, a pinewood cabinet holding my moth collection, my moth collection, a dead weevil I threw out of a cob of corn, a set of bronze fireplace tools minus the poker, a tin washtub, my third-best towel, a dustbin, a dessert bowl with moldy pudding, a cob of corn that I threw away after finding a weevil in it, a breadbox, an empty wooden barrel, a wooden step-ladder, throw rug..."

She stopped at this point and downed her tea. It has been a long time since she's taken inventory, with 'never' certainly qualifying as a long time. When you can always find new floor to throw things on, spring cleaning becomes a mythical thing.

"A broken clock, a book titled 'What I Did On My Holiday' ..."