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Jar swooped down, cawing in the face of the avian that had found them. The large ugly one eyed bird's crackling steel hard voice was enough to get the attentions of the giantess. But as her head turned, she peered curiously at the creature her winged companion found peering back at her. With a sharp whistle, one more loud than any a horn could make, the ugly bird stopped his furious cawing. Instead he turned in his pattering flurry and swooped down to rest upon her high ledge of shoulder. In her sleek black armor, with her strange weapons and contraptions, she wonder just what she might look to this tiny avian humanoid. Halting her feets' steady pound, her chisel stone feature softened slightly into a smile.

"Apologies, Feather One," her voice held that kind of intimidating rumble one might of expected had a thunderstorm spoke in words, or the crashing waves might have when speaking, "I oft' forget ye smaller ones are about and no' as durable as me. I forget mae self at times." She quieted her voice, so she might not blow him off the side of the mountain. T'would be sad indeed if she scared off the first Avian Kind she had met in her travels. Ah, the stories she had heard about their kind... Of course in the stories they were always more bird than man, but it had been well a hundred years since her people at run across his. Time changed, as she knew too well. 

"Jar and Tin are the only one about mae," she coaxed softly, showing her hands were empty and that she meant no hard, "Jar's an old mangy bird, but he's right harmless. Tin is shy, as her kind usually be. We mean ye nay any harm." Putting out a large hand, she beaconed the odd little creature to come towards, as a human might towards a skittish animal. She was curious of the avian. Stories and paintings, yes, she knew of their kind, but they were more a mystery than anything. Like how the horse upon the ground knew of the circle birds in the sky, but did not know of what they might do or act or look like up close. The little fae had hid herself in Shoma's hair at Jar's cawing, but now her little head peeked out of the dark to peer with innocent curiosity at the other.

The little light almost completely pure white, flittered forwards hesitantly. But then as quick as a little bee, she was hovering in front of the avian, large depthless black eyes gazing at him silently. A redish scar crossed jaggedly down the little fae, her antler-like antennae and pure little form tainted in its beauty by the scarred violence. Fae were a vain kind, mischievous and often a bit hellish, but even little Tin's kind had standards. And with her scar and muteness, she had been cast out, like any animals pack would do of its weakest link. But little Tin smiled something sweeter than raspberry juice and tugged lightly at the avian creature's chin before flitting back to the giantess. Shoma chuckled softly. To her it was barely a whisper of a chuckle, but to the smaller kind it was a deep rumble, like a far away rockslide down a mountain.