[The similar callouses on their hands speaks of a man who knows how to wield a weapon, skilled at it too by the feel of it, these were not new. The man was a little taller, he could tell that much, the voice coming from just above his ear rather than below or next to. He was slowly trying to take in all aspects of the man so he could try to gauge his posture and stance, learn more about him without sight.

But he doesn't linger long on the thought as they begin to shuffle more than dance, a weird sway to the beat as they move around, feet bumping into each other awkwardly.

At the suggestion, he places his other hand on the man's shoulder, some simile of a dancing pose. His elven ears picking up the chatter and giggling of the Sirens, likely observing their charges.

Rude.]

This is well enough. [There is a note of gratitude.] Though, I believe from how the sirens are tittering that they enjoy watching us struggle through this ordeal.