One of the problems with being... what he is... is that he can hear, smell, see so much more than he was born to sense. The shifting rustle of a mouse underneath the carousel, the bright passage of feathers through still air as a bird flies overhead, the low rasp of a snake in the grass..... the lower, harsher rasp of an even bigger snake over packed, dry earth.

He mostly makes an effort to ignore it; after a certain point, it's just so much background noise--like a television always on in the back of a bar.

Her arrival--with spoken word--is less like a sudden appearance and more like someone suddenly turning that television up. Which isn't to say he doesn't turn, sharply, the mouth of his reptilian muzzle hidden behind the cowl of his cloak--and the armoured ledge of his plated scutes.

But the source of the voice is nowhere to be seen. He sits for a second, listening. But after a moment of deliberation, he reaches the only conclusion possible with the information he has.

.... is she... somewhere underneath him?

".... Tanyuu." His voice is low and quiet--testing.