Bitterroot Valley Paying a Social Call

Sega came steadily. Clearly hadn't expected this, and so Barrett gave a wordless nod once it was clear that there truly was a connection between these two, and ultimately ended up taking up the sidelines of the conversation.
Words that he couldn't understand slipped from Sega's mouth. The outlaw came to realise that the way their tongues moved must have come from somewhere, and, considering they were so very similar in the first place, it made sense that they'd share an odd, unfamiliar tongue, too. Barrett gazed carefully from his leader to Ravah, saying nothing. Doing nothing.
An anchor, a just in case, though he would not encroach for too long, should Sega shoo him away. There was quite clearly a spark of something old, of something young between the two that he would have to be either dumb or blind to not notice. He fought the curiosity that attempted to rise up his features, rather remaining stone-faced in this moment. A familiar task.
Must he leave, he would wait to be excused, and then he would make quick work of his departure—only if it was a necessary thing. He was more than happy to supervise this lil' playdate going on.