My, my.

[ A curious phenomenon, the way the good Captain's meal takes to vanishing straight from his plate before he's even had the chance to lift a—fork, is it? he's still terribly unused to the many innovations of the realm—bite to his lips.

Ah, well...! Truth be told, he isn't quite as hungry as he is interested in the slip of a girl, with gangly limbs and long white hair, as she orchestrates yet another expert maneuver: alleviating him of his dessert before darting back, beneath the table, quick as a flash of light.

By virtue of being who (and what) he is, the girl never really had a chance of escaping his eyes, though color him impressed—if he were anything less, then surely, he would have thought her to be a draft of wind: the summer's breeze echoing throughout the hall. ]

It's quite all right, you know, if you should care to join me. [ A beat; he closes his eyes as he speaks, sensing if she still lurks nearby. ] We match, after all, and so it's our duty to look out for one another, right?

[ And by match he means they both share long, white hair and dark brows in contrast. ]