Where most people would have rushed along with the conversation, the woman in front of him pauses, making sure he’s said his piece. Sunny… appreciated that. The flow of conversation - that back and forth canter that others seemed so tuned into - was an art that had always alluded him.

Something in the way his gaze widens as he listens to her hints at understanding. Confirmed by a few nods, more sure than his past hesitance. While Sunny himself didn’t throw knives, it made sense.

“You… know a lot…” He blinked several times, opening his mouth to say more, but is stopped by his own cough. His throat was dry, drier still despite the fact they didn’t need to drink here, and the rocks had only kicked up more dust than he was used to.