The vagrant tilts his head curiously at all of this - at the cloud, the mist, but more notably the talk of Julieta. (The little pattern of knocking that Bruno does is met and almost mirrored, beat for beat, in the drumming of his fingernails. Learning. Everyone has their own rhythm, and knowing Bruno's will make it easier to disrupt.

"I had heard about a healer from the villagers. That must be this Julieta, then?"

An idea is beginning to form - but he needs just a little more information, yet, before he makes a decision. The tea smells strong, and...well, he can't drink it, of course. But this is hardly his first time running this kind of gambit.