"Some kinda recorder," she replies, uncertain how she knows this, but very sure that it is. "Probably part of whatever this is. He might be, too. Don't look nothin' like our kind." Servants, possessions, pets - she doesn't have the word changeling, yet. She's a gun and a woman, simple as that.

"Looks like the folk I fought with." And that, would seem to indicate he's only a memory, albeit one that means nothing to her. He's just a body in a box with a recording device that makes frightening sounds. She holds that device up now, examining it. She rewinds it, then hits play. There's the shuffling of feet, then the shriek of a woman, loud and piercing. It chills her for some reason she can't explain, and she stops the recorder before offering it to Specs. "Don't think he's real. Or this."