She heard him, of that he was sure. There was a flicker to her eyes and ears which indicated understanding - just not the understanding he wanted. She smiled a cautious smile and introduced herself in one breath, Hello. I'm sorry I don't understand you sir. I'm Thistle Cloud.
There was an accent to her words, a curious twisting quality and lilt that made him think, surely you are one of us! but the sound was more foreign to him than the common tongue that fell from her lips.
A small bow was granted in her direction, and he cast his eyes to her paws in humble veneration; for she was a woman, and even if she was a heathen to the ways of the sisters, she was innately better than him. Pardon me,
he murmured at her, thoroughly apologetic. He wanted to step around her and continue scrutinizing the trees, but his training curbed that desire. I only asked if this was your forest, miss. It is beautiful.
It had not occurred to him that his own introduction would be pertinent. It was not the way of things in the cove among the sirens, after all.