While V catches the humming first, he can't quite pinpoint where it is coming from. Surely, it's not the nymphs, given the timbre of the voice, but beyond that it's too quiet to tell. Still, the man has little desire to truly search for it, to stray from the little path and crash through the underbrush. Not that that is out of any desire to save his wardrobe, but the sense of disorientation he's had since stepping into this place has been creeping further and further through him the longer he's been here. At least sticking to the path presumably leads somewhere.

So, he's not entirely surprised when he finds someone else on that path. Indeed, this was meant to be the main attraction of the evening, wasn't it? It's only the curious size of the interior that gives credence to the fact that he hasn't run into more people.

His attention is just drawing to the tail -- not an unheard of feature in his experience, but certainly of note -- when the other turns with a greeting.

"Good evening," he offers in return, coming to a halt and propping his cane at an angle that allows him to lean a little of his weight into it. Something of a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he continues.

"Much to my butler's chagrin, I'm sure. I believe this is the first time I have been without him dogging my heels since I awoke in this --" he pauses to consider how best to address the place, but ultimately the only insufficient word he can conjure is "-- city."