Ayla's comment about falling over during a charge, and the sight of this new arrival, forced into his mind with chagrin the memory of his first battle with the Dragon-Teeth, up against a scouting group of dark-skins [he needed to stop using the phrase; more than once he had found himself at odds with folks over the infantry expression], memories of him in the van falling on his face and being nearly trampled to death. Shaking his head slightly to discharge the shame from his mind's eye, turned his attention to their new guest. She wore a sword, but not with the ease of Ayla or the routine of ex-mercenaries. Her attire was fine, her skin marked, but certainly not by battle. He responded to Ayla with a chuckle, his gaze not leaving the dark-skinned lady.

"I don't reckon she's here to fight, not least as we are. Now, I'm not used to them educated types, but if I were to bet I'd say yer here for yer brains, not your sword arm." Turning his head to Ayla, he responded to her more directly. "I figure maybe she's dressed right: figure yer gotta be comfortable to use yer brain, mail probably aint the right choice for hard thinking."

Alexander watched as the well dressed man walked right by him and entered the store, his eyes being pulled off the dark skinned woman. It was a profoundly surreal moment, oddly, seeing someone doing something that he had not considered. It was a brash move, certainly, and Alexander didn't think it augured well for their working relationship, but those thoughts fell from his mind as he looked confusedly at the rest of the group. "So. Are we meant to go in?"