She'd expected a cranky older witch, once she'd worked out what actually happened. Someone who'd heard of her history or what she'd done since and wanted to disapprove of her life choices to her face. Someone who, frankly, would've had every inclination to summon-and-exorcise her on the spot.

What she didn't expect to see, when she pushed her head back off the dirt, was that one fake exorcist she'd run into.

"Of course it-- wait, you!" Aradia scrambles to her feet with a snap of protest, disorientation falling away now that she has something to properly glare at. "I thought you said you weren't a medium. This is-- this is pretty medium-y!"

Oops. At least she's not immediately trying to escape, instead glowering in the center of the pentagram in all her totally-intimidating 5-foot-and-some-change glory. Which... actually isn't all that impressive, but it's the thought that counts, right?