He feels a tinge of guilt, as there's not much he can exactly do about the situation, but for the same reason, the feeling doesn't linger. In fact, he's intrigued by the situation.

While Deucalion is extremely cautious in regards to who he confides his trust in, he does not fear necessary interaction. He prefers to keep to himself, yes, but he has learned that throughout time, as comforting as solitude is, nobody can survive on it. As he traveled the world, he realized that not every human was as cruel and merciless as the ones he encountered in his first few years of life. The trust and faith he had in humanity had taken many years to build and furthermore, the rage in his heart took longer to quell. He had finally mastered it and now interaction, despite his awkward dialect and strange philosophy, came much easier to him.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both," he replies, giving an acknowledging nod to both of them. "I've gone by many names," he paused and then added, glancing over to Nuala, "And at one time, I did not in fact have a name at all. But you may call me Deucalion." The coincidence was curious and he realized that perhaps bringing about the subject of a former friend might be painful. However, he needed to ask.

"May I inquire as to what this man you knew was like?"