It didn't need context; Charles had his hand over his mouth as he stifled laughter just listening to it. Trying to imagine a cat species such as this hurling cattle with large medieval machinery was, in sort, hysterical. He could gather a little of what they were like - not stupid, no, but perhaps a very certain look on the world around them, warriors, as well, if their builds spoke of anything, but so did their outlook.

"So somewhere, a sylvari listened to this conversation taking place and now it's playing here? Or is this... a dream? Made up by the unconscious?" Charles questioned, wanting to be certain on just what he was witnessing. "Either way, that? Is something I will never forget." Hurling cats. The thought made his lips curl up again.

"Is this what you saw, before you came out of your... pod?" A mental note to ask if that was something he could see, where these children slept, or was it possible to view the whole tree, but that was for later. "All of these people, these things happening?" But he also wondered if it gave sylvari 'children' a certain skewed view point on the world, should they witness one thing and not another, or something that was unkind, wrong, or an outlier among the sylvari.