He turns his head a little, so the wind blows against his face instead, and straightens it out as best as he can with some finger combing. Despite his delicate features and his clothing, his growing pout isn't really that flattering. He sets his hands on his hips after fixing his hair and looks out across the horizon.

"Different? You don't sound so sure."

Kuja really likes figuring out how people tick, to know how to dance around them and use them as he saw fit. That took a bit of acting like he cared.