Much better. Far easier to look down to talk to this elf scout than crane his neck up. Aleron takes her being obliging to be a good sign and nods at her in greeting. He does pause, briefly, before supplying something of a name. "Darton. Aleron Darton."

He had to think about it. Chances of someone recognizing the name in these parts were low, smaller still to a Dalish scout. The likelihood of prompting some version of a nasty and violent spat at mentioning his being a Seeker of Truth? That's a far greater risk and not one he care's to initiate right now. He needs answers, not more problems to resolve.

"It's a pleasure, Scout Ashara." Manners. He was born to eat, drink, and breathe them, and had them even further instilled through his very formal mentor. What he doesn't have in ready supply is anything akin to a smile, not even one of welcome. "I'll not hold you from your business overlong."