Is that a warm, reddish flush to Bruno's skin? An almost imperceptible quickening of his pulse?

Yes. Yes, it is. He's incredibly unused to compliments, especially any regarding his appearance. No, he's too scruffy, too small, too tired-looking to fully believe he could be considered any kind of attractive. Which is a shame, because he has lovely soft hair and warm eyes of an intriguing jade colour, and the line of his neck to his collarbones is so graceful and almost delicate. His gaze darts again.

The idea of the townspeople mentioning him, however, turns it to a hot blush. "No, no, they don't talk about Bruno," he says instinctively before he stops himself, taking a few breaths. "Well, I mean, I guess they do now..." Another self-conscious laugh. "But... yeah, that's me. I see the future, good or bad."

He wishes this hadn't come up, but it was kind of inevitable. He toys with the frayed hem of his ruana, suddenly acutely aware that it's three sizes too big. Sure, this Kronid fellow isn't much larger than he is, but he seems to wear that small stature a little more... deliberately. And with clothes that fit him. Inwardly, Bruno upbraids himself--good lord, you're not a kid, you could have had this stupid thing taken in and hemmed at any time....

He's lost in thought, now, quite involuntarily.