Mikka was... realizing that the elezen didn't know who he was. Not terribly rare- he certainly didn't have the look of a vaunted hero after all. But increasingly so as time passed, so there was something of a relief in the idea as well, the idea that he could simply be himself to someone without the weight of their expectations of what he would or should be weighing on his thoughts.

"Aye... you've likely the right of it," Mikka murmured, with a soft, wry smile. "I think I just have a terrible habit of twisting myself into the worst knots over things. Zaika would likely tell you of how tiring it is to her, were she able to speak."