He's always had a knack for finding the positive in any situation, in any person. She may be exact and cool in her wording, but the researcher in him admires that for precision and dispassion. It might not endear her to the masses, but it's a useful thing to have learned all the same.

The part of Herian's lineage that catches Myr's attention is not the part she's most concerned about. He brightens as she gives her full name, recognizing a part of it, though he doesn't leap in over the top of her words to ask the question that's on the tip of his tongue. (The sobriety does her in good stead there, giving weight enough to what she's saying to make him pay attention and be courteous.) That look of eagerness on his face only dims faintly at her revelation, clouded over by a kind of puzzled concern. "I don't know why I would be concerned to be seen with you," he replies. "You're still my kinswoman."

He knows the issue's more fraught than that, that there are currents of resentment and prejudice that run deep on the subject of halfbreeds both within the alienage and without it. But he knows all that intellectually; emotionally, it's exactly as he says: She's as good as another elf, to him. "And," there's a wry smile on his face now, "it's not that I've got a reputation to ruin here besides; I'm from Hasmal Circle, myself.

"Speaking of--you're not related to Cerys Amsel, are you?"