For the most part, Anemos seemed unfazed by Alex’s spontaneous entry: Although it was certainly theatrical, a life in the circus had thoroughly desensitised him in regards to flashy, sudden arrivals.
All he really offered her was the momentary arching of his brow, a mild confusion which soon settled itself.
“Street performer, huh?”, he asked, although it was clear by his distant tone that his true attention was still on his own thoughts, “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
He turned his eyes forwards for a moment, and drew his bo staff in a largo movement, before pressing it to the ground, and getting to his feet again. 

Slowly, his sense returned to him, and he eyed her curiously, scrutinising her, almost.
He’d never seen a [i]street performer[/i] move that way: Just as she’d identified Anemos for his finesse, he’d recognised her for her lack of it. 
“When I was younger, we called it theft,” he remarked, drumming his fingers against his staff again, producing that same habitual thrum he always seemed to. 
Then, oddly, he smiled at her: Some faint, albeit friendly, thing. 
He had no interest in fighting her, at least not today. 
Anemos wasn’t interested in the dealings of some petty thief, he’d come to Clock Town in search of a killer, and so that was the confrontation that [i]Orca[/i] craved. 

“I must admit, though, I’ve never met a thief who simply [i]asked[/i] for my money,” he jested, patting absentmindedly at his satchel, “But I’m afraid I promised somebody that I’d pay them a visit, most likely in both senses of the word ‘pay’.”
He moved his head Eastward, “Circuses are a pricey ordeal, after all.” 
Following this, Anemos took a moment to ensure that his rupees were all still present- and [i]Orca[/i] made a mental note to strike this newcomer down the moment she showed an inclination towards taking them- before he extended his gloved hand towards her, “But, where are my manners? Anemos Seuhans, a pleasure.”