"Aye," Robb admitted, a touch sheepish. He'd gotten a bit ahead of himself what with being excited to tour their surroundings and forgot to smooth out the very worst bits of his extreme, North of the Forth speech pattern. Abby was as Yankee Doodle as they came by his immediate reckoning and was, no doubt, having a fair degree of difficulty wading through so much bramble and thistle.
Being around Jon so much lately, who didn't mind hearing the rough Highland burr peppered with the occasional, more unpredictable Slavic vowel and consonant articulation, really had spoiled him; made him less vigilant. With that in mind, Robb made mental note be kind to ears less familiar with the British Isles and to try to slow it down for the remainder of his visit.
"Blair Drummond in Stirling and the Kingussie wildlife park have a few," he pointed out, taking particular care this time around when he spoke. "But the bulk of the tigers I've seen were in Russia."