Cerulean Cape everything was screaming: the sea, the wind, my heart

A smile forms on her features, for the briefest of moments, as they bond over a skill they both lack. It at least gives them a connection, occasionally looking back at something they don't understand but knowing someone else nearby related. Shifting a few feet closer, easier to speak, especially now that he has her attention. And even more when he mentions a place that she is familiar with, if only in stories.

"I know someone that had been born there," she explains. It gave her a second chance to look him over before she settles somewhere comfortable for the both of them. "Gyda is her name." Thuringwethil doesn't add anything else, any further connection, until she can gauge the reaction he has upon hearing her name.