Sleeping Dragon her eyes hold thunder and her blood is magma

The more he learns, the more he is coming to understand just how small of a glimpse this is. This is a culture ingrained through time, one its newest initiates learn from a tender age it seems. Dio understands. He's known a few variations of societies do something similar. He could see why. It seemed more subtler than some -- not much different than everyone else as she said so herself, and perhaps, therein which was the strength of it.

And, the topic of language is greeted with a new curiosity. He does not find himself overly daunted by the challenge, nor the possibilities it could grant him. While not required, he reasoned a few key phrases could not hurt. If time saw it fit, he could expand from there. "I will," he nodded, not knowing that soon, duty would have Gavriel elsewhere. But, he had a lot to consider now and that was just another.

So when it was right, he offered his parting words and some expression of his appreciation for her time, her words, and otherwise. He would be on his way afterward to contemplate in solitude, which of course left her to carry on as she pleased.