Adah was disappointed in herself for expecting that the dramatic pause might have brought on something a little less predictable than the ceiling, and she had to duck her head, mug to mouth, in an attempt to not laugh. She snorted, though, getting her nostrils full of the scent of coffee, and drew away enough to shake her head. If she were more vocal or had a desire to murder her love of logic, she might have asked about the technicalities of a human-to-ceiling relationship, and inquire as to how that was working out for the boy from maths class, but she merely sipped her coffee again and sent another glance upward toward the ceiling, one more judgmental sort of glance toward the object of his affection (and rather pleased to find that to be a literal choice of words), and then glanced back at him with a slight nod as though she approved of his fondness for it. It was very nice, yes, she couldn't argue that fact. It was even quite structurally sound, or so it seemed. The comment of a dog falling through it did have her seeming to shift a little bit closer to the wall out of precaution, with an arch of her eyebrow in question about the last comment.

A dog falling through Karal's roof was definitely something she would be interested in hearing about. She could just envision it now, him sitting in his room with his prayers and devotions, only to have them answered by a canine from the heavens.