John hadn't quite expected that voice to come from the stranger. He also hadn't really expected to hear him talk back either. A gesture at most perhaps. But he spoke loudly and clearly. Was he able to breath in there too? What had he managed to find this time, he thought to himself.
"I can see why..." he said casually, glancing upwards. "So who, or what are you then, handsome?" he asked. It was a blunt and straightforward question. John could make guesses of course based on his knowledge of myth and the occult. For all he knew he could have been talking to some sort of water sprite or Nymph.
He took his Zippo lighter from his pocket and opened the top, closing it again. He typically did it as a means to ground himself. Or remind himself that he wanted to smoke. Either or.