[Fortunately, Syrlya hasn't found himself as an audience for Urianger getting sick, but the Elezen definitely seems to be zoning out until he's spoken to.]

Mm...?

[He lifts his head and brushes his bangs out of his eyes. Oh, company!]

Aye. Ah, well...with less of my senses than I would prefer. But that is why I absconded to the balcony. Some fresh air ought to do some good, I figured.

[Before he can over-explain any further, he takes note of Syrlya's plantlike features and seems to have some sort of small epiphany.]

Oh! Thou must be Syrlya. The...Sylvari, aye?