Observing her reactions to his arrival, he came to the conclusion that she was fine with his presence; or at least she showed no outwardly signs of resenting his appearance. Pleased by this outcome, Sleekwing’s maw pulled into a slight smile as she agreed with him. The words the followed roused the brute’s interest. A single brow lifted in curiosity, an expression she probably could not appreciate or discern from her vantage. Realizing he had perhaps chosen a poor place from which to engage in conversation, his dark blue eyes glanced around, looking to relocate himself. Now that he knew she wasn’t put off by his being around, he sought to move to a perch that was more level with her own. When he spotted such a cleft in the rocks, he leapt down and then across to it.

Sitting back down, he noticed her eyes wandering over his physique, and he allowed his to do the same. Her pelt was a rich shade of auburn, similar to the brilliant shades of the autumn leaves that occasionally floated down from the trees that were rooted up the valley’s side. She was a beauty, most certainly. But Sleek was a gentleman and would treat her only as a lady should be treated. He had never been one for idle tricks of a suave lothario. Raised right, he had learned to treat everyone with respect. When their eyes met once more – hers were light lavender, he noted – she spoke again before he had the opportunity, inquiring upon his title.

“Sleekwing,” he said simply, with a slight bow of his head. Once more, a single brow rose inquisitively. “Is there a tale to tell for your earlier statement?” he questioned, hoping he was not pushing the bounds of their new acquaintance too far. It would be an easy enough question to avoid if she so chose to. After all they had only just met, she need not feel it necessary to divulge such information to him. “And what might I call you?” he asked, giving her the option to completely avoid his prior question. Although part of him hoped she wouldn’t.