The Isle

Chell looked like maybe, just maybe, he would have said something, if he could even think of what to say, at Foulques' comment about not having such abilities himself... but he didn't interrupt. It seemed backwards to him, at first -- why should it have been on Foulques, for Chell to sense him better? That was Chell's ability, and didn't rely on others having similar, to work. But... but he did have to admit, he had an easier time of it with the ents, like those in his forest. But did that have to do with the ents themselves being easier to understand, their minds ordered so differently, so much more straightforward than others'? Or was it because they were meeting him halfway with like abilities?

He put the matter aside for the moment; there were more pressing things to focus on, than a riddle he couldn't currently meaningfully attempt to solve.

"If you are willing to show me what needs be done, I would be willing to learn. I have never...." He gestured to the fish. If Foulques had resorted to that, then clearly it had very much been necessary. And food was always among the very highest of priorities, for those who weren't yet considered elders, among their kind, so it made sense to him, to start there. Or presumed kind; he wasn't about to ask further. It mattered very little, really, when it came to such practical concerns.

Behind him, the tree was still occupied with making the bit of foil catch the light, however poor it was with the current weather. It was probably a safe enough bet that it wasn't going to be of as much help as Chell might prove to be....