A hedgewitch...how interesting. It's been a while since he's met one of her ilk. Sometimes a little serious, but always very polite. Soft, rounded ears turn forward, attentive to the tone of her voice. A little nervous, perhaps - but honest. That's good.

What's better is the curtsy. How long has it been since he's been curtsied or bowed to? Far too long, far too long. He straightens a little at that, preening with a flash of a smile at the show of courtesy, before stepping slightly closer. For a couple of seconds Fia just inspects her with the curiosity of the creature he was chosen to emulate, pinkies linked behind his back. Looking at what Dillie's wearing, wide eyes quickly flick down to the bag at her side, as if trying to see what she might have brought with her.

Her question of whether or not she could do anything for him has also been noted; again, not something he's been asked in a long time. People just don't have the same respect that they used to.

Not a moment later does he extend one hand to her, black-dipped fingers unfurling from an upturned palm as he tilts his head a fraction.

"Have y'brought anythin' for me? If so, I might be inclined to help you home. Or let you stay awhile. It has been some time since I've had company that uses two legs instead'a four."

His question may as well be rhetorical with this particular visitor, or so he's assuming. She knows to be polite and to apologise for her trespass, so it makes sense that she would know to offer him something now. A cereal bar wouldn't go amiss, actually - a teenager intoxicated by some sort of drug gave him one once and he's grown rather fond of them.

Not the wrappers so much. Those have been known to vex him.