The long string of words is meaningless to him, but the lack of a lone word to interpret what he is describing means that she did not understand. He is not surprised by this; it is much harder to indicate than an eye or a tail.

Faris ensures that his claws are retracted, and uses his forepaw to gently pinch the flesh of her arm, not tightly enough to hurt, just to gather the skin together. "Tuakos," he repeats patiently. When he releases his hold, he does not move away, laying a paw on her arm. Where it touches her, the paw seems to melt away into the surface of her skin, an expertly-patterned tattoo wrapping around her wrist.

"Ghermyohni tuakos."