Well the moment Vrenille spoke it would probably be obvious to anyone by his accent that he wasn't British anyway, so hopefully it wasn't so very bizarre for him to be checking on where he was. Of course he had no idea how big or small this Scotland was--if it was a vast span of land he probably sounded stranger than if it was a small one with some border always nearby. (One more reason he really hoped to see a map. It would help him gauge what sort of questions not to ask a lot more easily.)

Anyway, far more important was the fact that they were somewhere warm and welcoming, somewhere that felt even more homey inside than it had initially looked. This was the sort of environment with which Vrenille had plenty of practice, and he took to it about like a duck to water, giving the proprietress an easy smile when he was introduced, and not giving any indication of how he registered that momentary expression of sadness that flitted across bother her and Remus's eyes. (It went quietly into a mental file he was compiling about this land and these people.) "It's a nice place, Rosemerta, and it's good to meet you."

Seated at the table, he unwrapped his scarf and flexed the cold out of his fingers as he turned his attention to Remus once more. "You come here a lot?" It was half question, half speculation--the greeting Remus got when they walked through the door was the sort of thing a person generally built up to over time.