"I am not sure if we are speaking of the same person?" Ashva replied, carefully. "This one seemed quite friendly? But I do not think myself and his religion get on, no. I take it this is also the case with yourself?"
As he spoke, Ashva meanwhile looked Damascus up and down with curiosity. In part it was a sizing up - which he generally did as a matter of course really - but also genuine curiosity at Damascus's clothes. After all, he'd still not yet spoken to many humans, and he was trying to work out why this one dressed so differently to golfmen militia. Did the colours mean something? Did the cut of the clothes?