He perks a brow as the other man spins toward him. He pauses somewhere several feet away still, trying to suss out if he may be something like a threat. Especially with all the dulling of his senses he's noticed recently. More so now that he's come to the realization he's really stuck here, the worry over it was settling down into his bones. There were a lot of ways it could go wrong, backfire, so many ways being dulled in any way was a disadvantage he hadn't had to worry about in so many years it was impossible to fathom being anything else. But for now, that was not his focus. This man, with his old tongues was his main concern.

Ekki margir gera lengur. Ég hef ekki hitt neinn sem hefur í langan tíma. He answers, still taking a silent, mental assessment of the bloke. He didn't seem like he was going to do anything stupid, so Kol relaxes a bit. But only just.