He might be puffing his chest up a little, cocking his head to the side just so, to allow better angulation of his jaw in the dappled sunlight...

"Is that so?" He asks, all innocence in his voice.

Skellig looks himself over, up and down, then looks back at her, before shaking off his wings behind him - careful not to get her (really, their blankets) wet with any droplets.

"Perhaps while we are foraging, you can tell me of them."