It's another moment, but one of his stalk eyes shifts, swivels, focuses on the pale human. The aura or whatever it is fades, cutting off rather than winding to cease.

<Ah. Apparently I was singing. It was not my intention, but I suppose it's habit now.> There's a disgruntled aspect to that more-or-less-a-voice. Thought speak may be perceived as like sound, but almost sourceless. <I suppose I was singing something different for... years.>