Re: the lighthouse, inside.
The smoke shifted, swirled. He blinked. "Was I whispering?" He shrugged, and a few thicker puffs of smoke, milky white, rose and curled around the stairs before fading. He thought that adequately explained that this was how he spoke, how his voice sounded; in contrast, she was loud. But he felt no need to say as much. He didn't seem to mind her lack of social skills, but then, he didn't seem to mind much of anything. Being trapped didn't alarm him, or perhaps he refused to accept that they were trapped at all. They had a door. It didn't open now, but all doors had go open sooner or later. Didn't they?
He did, at least, notice that the lantern (and the unseen voice) moved in response to his step forward. It did occur to him that maybe he should stop, that the retreat should be taken as a deterrence, but he took another step up all the same. Might as well see it through. "I'm smokey?" He smiled, a hazy thing, though it was more amusement than a real, valid question. "I know. Just like you're in shadow. It isn't unpleasant, if that's what you think." Another step up.