Invasive. Troubling. Disconcerting. She supposes those may have been the descriptors of the allegedly lower level telepaths. If she was heeding her script, she'd utter the same. They're the key words. They're the words she knows would make Darren feel somewhat comfortable with Samantha. But Strange would see right through her like a very clear and cleaned window.

While all three of those words are true, Wanda's answer is deeply layered. Telepathy is an invasion of the privacy of the person she reads. It can also be a door to understanding someone so closed off and unapproachable that it can often be responsible for nourishing a tether. Sometimes it comforts her when she has no social confidence. Knowing she's not alone and is surrounded by people, even strangers, is a comfort.

"It's…" She studies the bartender for a long moment, wondering what they'd say. But there is no party line for her to regurgitate. If Strange was discomforted by the fact he's housing a telepath, she's certain he wouldn't have encouraged her to stay.

Picking at her nails, she leans her arms on the table and purses her lips slightly without thought. With a furrowed brow, she regards the corner of his cloak on the chair.

"It's unbalancing," she opts for. Wanda lifts her gaze from the cloak to Strange, still frowning thoughtfully. "It's hard to ignore the hum of thoughts. It's tempting, like having wine for breakfast or eating all of the chocolate in the pantry. It can feel tiring, like spending an evening with too many people, and it can be completely lonely. Sometimes being in someone else's head is a lot nicer than being in mine."

And she likes the control, the knowing of things no one else knows. Ever since Stark's bombs, she likes knowing what's potentially coming. It helps her prepare. Though, her telepathy has greatly let her down in armouring her for suffering great loss.