She blinked, a little taken aback by his apparent sentient state. If he were a true creation of her own mind, surely he would have been...more aloof? Confusing? But he was making sharp observations and asking further questions, though Juliet surmised that it could simply be another portion of her brain forcing her to examine her surroundings more thoroughly than she had before - as though she'd missed some key element in all the serialized ones before it. And then another epiphany struck her.
"Other dreams? You mean, you're not just a figment of my imagination?" The thought that another person had wandered into her dreamscape was preposterous, not to mention impossible. Juliet gave the young man a harder stare, confusion drawing itself plainly on her features. Her own hands were rubbing at her arms, a weak attempt to warm herself since her unconscious knew the inevitable. Hypothermia would eventually set in - their body temperatures were probably already below the norm, probably hitting closer to 96 degrees - and her feet were already beginning to numb. She was afraid to look down and see if they were turning black on the bottoms.