Ithacles had trouble wrapping his head around time. She acted older than twenty seven. But then again he behaved much younger than he was--by their standards. They being humans. If he hid his ears no one would think anything other than there's a young man. He did some algebra in his head and realized that compared to the average, she was a little more than a third dead.
He took the pipe from her. Before he put it between his teeth he took a quick sip of ale. It was a bit bitter for his tastes but then again he'd accept almost anything...Ithacles kept the pipe in his mouth, pointed at the woman, and took a puff. The smoke formed a screen between them, one which she was threatening to pass through.
His eyebrow came up and he kept the pipe between them, stuck out of his mouth like some sort of barrier. He had no clue what she was about to do, and although intrigued, he also felt slightly...strange. Like someone else.