No, we're not.

[No, they probably are. Certainly it's a good thing she hasn't yet gotten to her feet. Rosalind hums happily, squirming again-- yes, good, go on, keep going, because things like bruises that are too high on her neck are things for a future Rosalind to fuss about.]

We're not, 'cos we're still coherent. Perfectly able to keep up a conversation. Perfectly able to, to teleport.