Turnrin pulled at his robes nervously as the silence between them stretched on. Was she going to speak? He was seriously considering filling the awkward space with more words when she finally spoke up. Her speech was, awkward, to say the least. Like someone trying to remember how to communicate.
He listened to her articulate her words, and waited a bit longer after she had finished to make sure that she had nothing else to say. It seemed imprudent to rush her, and he only began speaking again when he was positive that she was done.
"Disturb me? Why, you did anything but. You saved my life. I feel that I must repeat, I am in your debt. Whether you noticed or not, you've earned my thanks and my admiration."
He stared at her for a moment, specifically at her hair. "And my curiosity. You have certain, how should I say, traits that are not commonly found in Connlaoth," he looked at her inquiringly. "I understand that you might be uncomfortable discussing your, uniqueness, but I assure you that I hold not prejudice against those who are different."
He was about to stop to allow her to craft a response when he realized that most clergy the girl was experienced with were likely to be of a certain persuasion about magic. "And uh, you don't have to worry about my beliefs about power of the...well... mystical type. I follow... um... different teachings, than many of those in this nation."
He might be in a bit of trouble revealing that here, but the girl had saved his life. And her condition made it such that Turnrin thought he could trust her. Then again, the monk had a habit of being a trusting man.