The source of so much interest appeared in the far doorway, a small framed individual, scarcely larger than an 8 or 9 year old child. An odd personage to say the least, as the aesr washed over him returning the information about the basic height and weight of the being, it also told the Dreamer that the being was acting in a manner not consistent with a normal human. 

It pawed at its face, pulling? No it was tearing away flesh in a peculiar manner, similar to humans who chose to self-mutilate for attention. Often dysfunctional children with psychological problems, was that was happening here? Perhaps this mud being was a child, this act was simply its coping mechanism. 

A motion drew the Dreamers attention followed by a snap, barely audible but very distinct came from the Assassin who slipped aboard the train.
 
“I only have come to observe it.” Skallagrim said as he stepped further into the train car, his radiating heat meeting the chilling fog continuing to create a raging storm front in miniature a scant few feet from the Assassin.
 
“You may have it when I am done recording its existence for the Dreamers.” He said as he indicated the creature, “I believe it is a child or perhaps a teen for its species. Notice the self-mutilation it is committing. Perhaps it is a cry for attention. If your employer has given you leeway, may you spare its life, allowing it mental help and a stable environment to grow in?”

The staff was clearly visible in the hands of the assassin, and it was clear that he was hesitant at the moment to use it. However he was still human, as much as his stature may grant him greater than human capabilities, he was all too human. 

With a thought the aesr flared around the body of the Dreamer, a wavering, pale amethyst light dancing on his armored form. 

“We need not resort to violence Assassin. I have no ill will towards you.” The Dreamer said as he shifted his hand slightly, the right hand coming to rest on the pommel of his sword, a natural and easy movement that would result in a resting of the hands. However to a skilled warrior it was a necessary move to ensure a fast draw of the sword if needed. 

Even as his static filled voice carried in the car, barely audible, Skallagrim slid his feet apart slightly, with the right leading the left, as he rose slightly on his toes, while the knees bent. He waited now, on both the response from the Assassin and to see if the mud being was sentient, if it were able to understand what was being said. It would be shame if it were nothing more than a creature driven by base emotions and scant intellect