The air feels different out here. Alive, and faintly charged, like sun rays caught in dust, suspended all around them.
But he isn't sure that there's anything supernatural about that-- not any more than your average forest cove. Nature, even in it's most mundane form, had a way of feeling otherworldly...
" All the way out here, huh...? " He remarks, taking slow steps behind her, with a subtle reverence for what was clearly a place of great meaning to her. He gently pushes the door aside, and closes it, as if to protect the sanctity-- an unnecessary step, probably, as the wards would do that even better than a physical door-- but it's a habit borne of time among humanity.
" So, was your grandma a hobbit ? Or like a garden gnome ? " He asks, looking around the earthy shelter which though it may not have been intended to, imparted a certain note of whimsical fantasy when compared to the very urban world he was accustomed to. (She knows he'll have meant no harm by the comment; he's just a being with a very low instinct for tact.) The next part, however, was in fact jest that he knows and understands if she takes offense to-- but he can't help it; it's in his nature to tease her. " 'Explains why you're so short. " He concluded with a thoughtful nod at her small stature, having satisfied himself with that explanation.
After a circular stroll through the place, examining the remnants of her family, a quiet place of protection... he turns to her, with a genuine curiosity. "What was she like? Or-- still like."
He had a grandmother who protected him, too. More, perhaps, than anyone else. He wonders, if in another life, his and hers could've been friends...
They probably would have been the closest of friends, just like them, he thinks.