[She's seen that sort of look before, so Mipha has no problems sort of. Waiting it out. She can be patient, even in the midst of this storm. Her own grip tightens on her trident a moment at another strong gust of wind, wincing slightly at its force.]

What? [She echoes in mild confusion. That sort of verbal reaction was a little different, and Mipha isn't sure if she should laugh or what. In the end she sort of chuckles and tilts her head with an amused look]

My name is Mipha, and my people are called the Zora. I really must insist we get out of this weather before the questions start, though.