The mare looks him over, surprised, confused, and a bit disgruntled. After a moment, she could only assume he was flame-retardant, resistant, or something of the like, concerning he wasn't reacting at all. That on its own was hunky-dory. However, the entire station doesn't share these qualities, and the mare stands up.
"Nnnnnope. Not a single word," she says, trotting over to the kitchen area. "Let's put them fires out; don't wanna set the station on fire. We only got so much oxygen up here."
"...Or, welp, that settles that, then," she says as he pats the last of the flames out. "Gotta be careful with them flames, 'specially up here."
She looks between the two, offering a smile. "Me? Doin' alright, Ah suppose. Names Miss McDermitt, but you can call me whatever you like. My friends used ta call me Hermit back home," she notes, tossing her empty glass bottle into a nearby garbage can.