Her perusal would not be of any tactical significance. The sketches were mostly black and white, with a few pages that were splashed with color, usually landscapes. The rest were of various women, in various states of dress and activity (though perhaps her luck held because he seemed to be a fan of races his height and taller). A plethora of elves and humans, draenei, of course (though it seemed of a particular two or three). There were a couple of several orc women, and a few worgen females, as well. There were a few of a kaldorei demon hunter, as well, though she did not wear a blindfold as many of her fellows did.<br/><br/>At her comments - whose significance did not escape him - he rolled his eyes and gave her a pointed look. He looked like he was about to speak, then shook his head. Retrieving his journal from its pouch, he picked up where he had left off with his last page.<br/><br/>"I 'ave tae wonder if yae got stuck out 'ere because people got sick o' all th' grief yae seem tae enjoy slingin'. I c'n understand wantin' some quiet time alone, but there's better ways o' gettin' it." He looked up, quirking a brow. "An' yae've never really told me tae leave, sae I 'ave tae wonder if yae jes' get off rubbin' folks th' wrong way." The smirk he sported stayed in place as he turned back to his sketch. "Granted, I'm at a bit o' a loss on wot tae dae with such a shrew, aside from drawin'. Tha', an' yaer analogy's backwards." Another wiseass grin.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>