[B]Gratia Mindaro - Airship[/b]

"[Color=66cd00]Yes.[/color]"

She had to give it to him; he was perceptive enough to recognise the lilted tones and lessened emphasis on ending consonants of the Mistralese dialect from their incredibly short conversations. Gratia's accent was suitably different enough from the stereotypical one of her city-state (AKA Fiordilatte's mouth-breathing posh shit), but still admittedly recognisable to anyone who wasn't a drooling idiot with less than two brain cells to rub together. Her own regard for Luke Schwarz rose slightly. Just slightly, but enough for her to pay a unit of more attention towards him.

"[COLOR=66CD00]I'm on exchange from the Haven school,[/COLOR]" explained the huntress, moving her head for the first time in their conversations to look at Luke.

The boy looked remarkably average.

Except the fucking hair.

Guy was probably some octopus faunus or whatnot.

If she held any lingering curiosities for how exactly Luke's hair actually worked, she showed nothing in either her eyes or expression, impassioned gaze only boring into Luke's face like a predator did when coldly and carefully studying their prey.

Gratia did, however, seem slightly more receptive to conversation.