When both Caria and Amalia simply gave their names and introduced themselves as travellers, Grandfather Trafalgar appeared to become somewhat crestfallen. From the moment he had first caught sight of them, the old man knew that these people had interesting stories behind them. And that was before he sensed the Fabula that gathered about them like bees about flowers. Despite his curiosity and desire for new stories though, Grandfather Trafalgar made no effort to persist in his prying. He had learned long ago that some people who come to possess the power of Fabula don't do so under pleasant circumstances. So it would make sense that they wouldn't enjoy speaking of it if they were such people.
After a moment, the old storyteller shook his head, as if physically dispelling the weight of his disappointment. He didn’t want to let his feelings bring down the mood of the gathering. That wouldn’t do. Once he had done that, he turned his attention back to the newcomers. A friendly smile lighting up his face's time-worn features as he did so. "So, you are travellers then?" Grandfather Trafalgar asked. "Have you met many other travellers on your journey? More specifically, have you come across any other Ćororo like me? Members of the Pandž Perja?" His voice held a faint note of hope. Almost imperceptible, but there for anyone who was paying close enough attention.