"Hmm... Tyorgh na'schan." She shakes her head and continues forward, one hand resting against her chin through the heavy veil. "Ya negh schairan saying any of that..."<br/><br/>The sentence seems to shift from giant to undercommon to sylvan, but the girl doesn't seem to notice. If anything, she seems to be consumed entirely with attempting to decipher her own message, coupled with several inch-by-inch appraisals of your person.<br/><br/>"I don't see any marks of the Storm and Sea on you, or on your equipment... but if I said that in reverie, then it must be at least in part true. Have you met any elementals of the wind or sea at any point? Perhaps that would explain it..."