Jacqueline
O'er the highland winds and whistling against fallen leaves, the wayfarer's homecoming was decorated by the sparce, quiet life of idle possibilities. From afar, crows could be seen listlessly picking at the barren dirt, their beady eyes fixed onto the potential danger of a newly trained warrior. 
Less auspiciously, with their blurred figure creeping between brittle walls and even peeking from above thatched rooves, was the being making a poor attempt to follow the rouge in any stealthy manner. 

A new addition to the faded landscape, their bleached body did little in terms of subtlety, unmistakable like the obnoxious glare of the sun despite the layer of dust that covered them. After several long minutes of cautious observation and a touch of awkward eye contact, they appear again upon the rooftop adjoining the street where the Uto stands, long hair rolling forward and billowing out against the eves in loops.

A glimmer, 
Then a single, shiny coin tumbles through the air to land at his feet. The lone silver glimmers up from the dust, it's surface polished and patiently cared for. The pale figure above shrinks back, but still watches, their apprehension reflected in the spots of pale blue swimming among dusty white.
Shelly
*Meeting eyes with others in the Mattan towns was rare, much less one with a glimmer of fascination in them. The Uto watched curiously, trilling softly as he glanced about momentarily - seeing no-one else in the street, as was normal. He sighed, pondering how such a barren land kept itself sovereign, before recalling the lucrative exports of the region- Then recalling he had recited this recently...*
"Lost? Or just being sneaky"
*He offered few words, unsure if the stranger understood him- the avian tongue mixed in with Silnarian making it difficult to parse for most.*
Jacqueline
A moment of further apprehension, then drifting softly from the rooftops was the stranger's own coarse birdsong; whistles, and twittering croaks of wild animal speech closely related to the Uto dialect. 
Shyly, they twittered meekly, docility greeting the avian with ample crowing of reverence and servitude. The mass of white above shifts, and another shard of light hits the dirt at his feet. 
As the second, brilliant silver gleams up from the dirt, a whisper of Silnarian words follow.
"*Bird... Wonderful...*"
Shelly
*Kynia cocked his head, his brow furrowing at this display. He recognised a few of the chirps, but it was similar to how a foreigner with rudimentary knowledge of a language would throw out terms in a vain attempt to communicate. He trotted closer, examining the silver buried in the ground with a talon, then picking up whatever gave the sheen.*
"I am not bird. I am Uto. Birds have small minds, my mind is wide."
*He explained, unfurling his wings as he said 'wide' to demonstrate his meaning.*