He did not hear her approach, but he felt her when she stopped. Her gaze burning into his back like a fire. Hannibal quieted himself for a moment before speaking, trying to suss out her voice and the beat of her heart. The former made no promises of familiarity, and the latter... well. Apparently did not exist.
When he turned, he took in the woman who had spoken to him. Her clothing was fine, very well made, and suited her perfectly. The cut was exquisite, her style was impeccable. Hannibal appreciated her already. Whatever she was.
"Doctor Hannibal Lecter." He replied to her question. "And who might you be?"
She didn't seem the type to randomly demand such information from strangers, it wasn't exactly polite. He was willing to forgive her trespass because he could sense a hint of confusion in her otherwise stable tones. He was willing to guess that she knew of him somehow, but he wasn't quite living up to her memory. Perhaps she knew the boy, then.