Siffleur is used to people pausing when they enter the sushi bar and see him. He's even somewhat used to conversation. He's far less used to being talked to by someone as if they know him already, and he blinks a few times as he tries to put together who this woman thinks he is.

There's something... off about her scent. It's nice and light, lavender of some kind. But there's something underneath it as well - or maybe an absence of what should be underneath it? He sets both his paws on the counter, crossing them over each other. "I come here often. The fresh fish is good. And I have never been known to favour anything but a cat. I suspect I am someone different than you expect me to be."