The reason she was outside in the first place was to avoid the general population. She wasn't in the mood for socialization or for the looks she often received, now more than ever, simply because of her house. But the silence was broken all too soon when the sound of someone singing reached her. She didn't recognize the voice- and really, she had no reason to. Instead she closed her eyes for a minute, a soft sigh of annoyance slipping past her lips before she prepared to put on her usual pleasant mask. It came easily at this point because it was so ingrained, but smiling sweetly and acting cordial was not an especially taxing activity in the first place-
But then she looked up, and that practiced smile faltered for a moment. The look she gave him was a mix of curiosity and mild suspicion. She had expected some stranger, and that she had been prepared for; she had spent her whole childhood learning how to charm strangers, to be neutral and safe and appealing. But she hadn't been prepared for this. Really, she hadn't been prepared for him generally speaking. Or more specifically, that odd quality he had that made her give him some semblance of honesty, which was more than she could say for most people. So she was faced with the odd dilemma about what exactly she was supposed to give him now.
She settled for a soft chuckle, more of a wry hum than a real laugh. "No, I couldn't. It's never been an easy place to handle though," she commented lightly. "Everyone needs a break sometimes, yes?" She smiled faintly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She paused, head tilted slightly. "And you're alone. No friends or groupies. I suppose I could ask you the same question."