Glazed eyes turn to meet the one who yells out to her. Legs dead and held firmly into place after the surprising noise of another, her head is tilted to meet the vision of her new visitor. She's got a hate to her, clearly annoyied, but the one who approaches her doesn't seem to really care. Curiousity sparks into her youthful heart and finds a way to ease out the anger that was there just moments before. "You're not who I'm looking for, though. Why are you here?" Warmth taints her voice now. It reminds her of the Dragon's Throat, where she really needs to get back to. Her father must be worried, and she needs to soothe his worries and comfort him. He needs to accept that she is a girl growing into a woman, and needs to face her issues at some point.
"Who are you, anyway?" Blue eyes stare without really meaning to, her brain desperately attempting to make something click because whoever he is, he looks familiar. If she had eyebrows, they might be scrunched up or a lone one raised in curiousity. She wants to know, and seeing as she has her mother's blood in her, for some damn reason can't hold back the fact that when she's mad, can be hateful and really wanting answers. Wouldn't Mother be proud?
When the answer doesn't come fast enough, she glides her growing legs and hooves over the ice floors, moving so that she can face him. He really looks familiar. It eats at a piece of her brain for a few moments with a spoon, then goes to a complete savage way of doing by using it's mouth and just nawing on her head. A nasty headache follows almost right afterwards.
"Anyway, I'm Sikeax, though everyone likes to call my childhood nickname, Sia. I'm from the Dragon's Throat." Whoever he might be, he smells faintly of the Basin. There is a bad memory from the Basin that she refuses to recall in these times. He must of thought that when she was yelling at those who were once her family that she was speaking to him, and feels bad for his mistaken idea. "If you thought I was talking to you, I wasn't. Excuse me for the confusion, I don't know your name and I doubt I've met you before. My words were towards my family, a band once called the Assassins. Everyone is probably dead now, but they lived here almost a year ago when I was a foal."
It's surprising just how much she can change herself to meet the needs of her current situation. If maturity has done this to her, it's not something she's going to neglect. A soft smile is offered towards him just in case he needs more reassurance that she isn't about to leap out and rip his throat out. Her teeth wouldn't do very well with that, and if she was seriously going to dirty them, her hooves, or even her precious horn with his blood, there wasn't a toothbrush for miles and a bath with this cold air is out of question. Going home with blood on her body that wasn't from healing could easily give everyone the wrong idea.
Her gaze digs into him, savage beast nawwing endlessly into her brain. Oh hot damn, is it really going at it too. She tosses her head about for a moment in attempts to expel the feeling. Finally, it finds a way to click inside her head and there's a sucker punch to the face for that asshole to get off her thoughts.
"Hate to be that stranger you met in ice cave who moments ago was yelling at the walls like a crazy person, but do I know you? I feel like I met you when I was younger, but the Night, if you know what I'm talking about."
She had always been aware of the fact that newcomers came to their magical land every season, looking for homes and fresh starts from where ever they haul themselves from. Everyone had a story, and her's was different than most. Within the back of her thick skull(she could be very stubborn at times, thanks to both of her probably proud but complete asshole parents), she can somewhat remember meeting someone like him before the night came along. Memories from that time era were mostly blurred. That time in life was mostly her stumbling around on long legs, busting her ass, freezing to death, it was a traumizing time to tell the truth, but it wasn't like human babies. Seriously, at least for the first two years of your life weird people are picking you up, you have to lie around in your own crap and piss, you can't feed yourself, and then sometimes they put you in jail. She made a fast thought of having to go through that and cringed. Busting your ass every five seconds is so much better than weird people you don't even know picking you up.
Footsteps bounce off the walls as she walks near him, still the shorter one here. At times she wondered how big Amara was and if she was going to be taller than her best friend, but it went away because those were useless thoughts and she always had things to do. She puts four feet between them and just stops, watching with an eager mind. If there is a feeling of awkward to their meeting, she doesn抰 notice. There isn抰 any flirting to this; he isn't just that cute.
Except, he's got a little bit too much of a blood fetish.

OOC: A little love out to my Psychology teacher who one day mid-lecture said that the reason you don't remember being a baby is because it抯 traumizing for those exact reasons.
If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?