[Their dance comes to its eventual end and one last spin, and for some moments Beatrix simply holds her, thinking that for all she's despised being in public eye in such a way, a dance is likely not the most horrible thing. In private. Although still not particularly befitting of a general in her station, even if in this place, she's no general at all.

In time, Tifa releases her and Beatrix straightens herself up. The question is a warranted one, though she hasn't made a habit of discussing other people, really. If she can help it.]

Dohalim. ['Lord,' she almost says, but she decides she has just a touch more respect for him.] Red of hair. Tall. He looks a bit the part of a bird. He is quite skilled with a staff of what you meant. I do believe he could have a great deal to teach you. I also suspect he would enjoy it.