@honk4muses liked for a starter.
"You smell odd." Her tongue flips up, against the front of her snout, that topmost portion where her nose crest tilts forward into a point. The two tips circle in the air for a moment, before landing flat against the rounded front, sliding back into her mouth at the end of the gesture.
She is, more than merely incidentally, aware that it is typically regarded as rude to comment on scent, for the people inland. It has been a point of pain before, certain to be one again and again afterwards. But the moment, for such an occasion and topic, feels like it is necessary to comment upon, feels appropriate in some way, because she does not think she has ever smelled anyone or anything which smells like that, and it is not wholly an organic-smell, not like she has ever encountered.
Miranda, whom is aware she does not fit in here, because that is the point of this exercise, the point of her being here at all, tilts her head calmly to the side, flicks the tip of her fin. One eye slides its attention to Munkustrap, slow, steady, self-assured, even as she looks him over. "Pardon myself for asking, but I do not believe I have met someone like you before. Might I inquire as to who you are?"









