Scout pauses. She sees the newcomer, initially, as a badly scarred person in the robes of a Jedi Master, of a species she's familiar with - Sakkubian, Gotal, Iktotchi, Elomin, someone with distinctive horns and upswept ears. That in itself is weird, Scout's nickname is thanks to her skill at reading situations quickly. That disorienting moment of familiarity shouldn't be there, or at least it should be a lot shorter before she registers that those definitely aren't Jedi robes and this is just a person of either an unknown species or with various changes, how could she fumble like that.

He also looks like he was badly injured some time in the past and not given prompt and proper treatment. One half of his face seems to be shiny and stiff with scar tissue that pulls the eye on that side and the corner of his mouth in an alarming way, and an obvious prosthetic eye, all polished bare metal and glowing lights, is planted in the eyesocket. Similarly he seems to have the most robotic arm and hand she's ever seen, but after her moment of confusion about the rest of his appearance she's not sure she trusts that to be true either.

She's spent a good few seconds staring, and Scout is the sort of person who wears her heart on her sleeve, so several emotions had flicked over her face - surprise, recognition, confusion, dismay, something a little like disgust or pity, all resolving into suspicion which she then tries to smooth over, because she's definitely been noticed and that means it's time to interact. Scout squares her well-built shoulders and approaches, bronze hoof-claws gleaming dully.

"Hi. Sorry for staring. You're new, right?"