While Elora was right in her thoughts - that most had - that the Professor could be dense at times, he was by no means totally ignorant.
He knew people respected him (though 'Valar knows why), and not too many could follow along with the science of things, so they viewed him as a genius (while he could have humility to be confused by others' respect, he definitely was vain enough to hold onto his "genius" title.)
In any case, he was a very strange, complicated person. For instance, he absolutely hated math. But he knew how vital it was for science so he suffered through the numbers to get to the understandings and results.
But that's derailing from the original point; he may be dense to the subtle shadiness of many individuals in Avalar, but he knew Elora, and even to a degree, Hunter.
So to see both of them coming up the beach to him, her expression drawn downwards, and Hunter's tight, he immediately set aside his trusty pencil and clipboard.
"Elora, Hunter!" He said pleasantly. "What a nice surprise! I've been working on a new portal design recently, and can't wait to show you."
He smiled, calm and unalarmed. He'd let them choose - they could either tell him immediately what was bothering them, or take the distraction and tell him later. He never needed to be pushy with them, and he wouldn't start now.
"Well. . ." Hunter scratched at the back of his head. The Professor could tell he was conflicted - which, for the Cheetah wasn't unusual. Like Elora, he was basically an orphan. Unlike her, he had no one to really look after him or help him along the way, so he tended to be brash and hesitant all in one. (As well as clingy, but that was a whole other matter.)
Oh dear, now Elora was biting her lip. He could tell that she surely wanted to talk to him, but probably couldn't find the words.
The Professor, with a quiet sigh, made an active decision. With a wave of his paw he said, "Come. Let's walk. It seems like you want to talk. . .?"
They seemed to agree to this, sagging slightly at having some of the weight taken from them. They walked along at a steady pace: the Professer's slow drawl, Elora's stifled caper due to the sand, and Hunter's heavy footfalls. They walked along the beach, unhurriedly, as the waves lapped closely on their left.
"Hmm, the ocean is pretty calm today. Could be due to the Zephyr residents stopping the Breeze Builder's turbines again - they really must stop that silly squabbling. But I'm guessing you don't want to talk about that," the old mole said, fixing his spectacles. "Maybe a penny for your thoughts?"
Elora's breath hitched; she then steadied it, ready to speak.
But Hunter beat her to the point. "It seems like Moneybags has something new he . . .uh, acquired."
The Professor hummed. "Hmm, well he has quite a versatile collection."
"We think it's something alive."
The Professor stopped suddenly at that. "Well. That's not good at all, no no, it isn't." He started muttering, getting twitchy. "Let's see; yes, I can change the charge - depends on if I can get a signature - then we'll remove the fluctuation so that it stays near-world, and-"
"Professor?" Elora, detecting the fervor in his voice, couldn't help but worry. After all, last time he had gotten this frantic he hadn't eaten for days. She exchanged a Look with Hunter. "Professor? What are you going on about?"
The mole turned to look at her; she was like a daughter to him. There was no way he'd keep secrets.
"Why, Elora, I'm trying to figure out how we'll rescue this creature that Moneybags has, of course!"