He might be sheepish if he weren't being no kind of used to people cringing and all suchlike. He figures keeping all as he was about it makes him like to seem as it really ain't a thing what to be making concern of.

"HE WAS!" He says. "Church of the Mirthful Messiahs, little sister. DID WICKED BUSINESS UP UNDER THE CARNATHEDRALS GREAT. A grand thing such as it was to be, all stirring the faithpumps and spiritghosts lingering. YOU, SISTER?"

His hands rest up on his hips. His head tilts at her, inspecting slightly. She seems... familiar.