Sorrow has already gone about settling to her system, ready to accept how she is in a state with no good to be seen when the feeling of eyes reach across the empty and touch her. Slow and steady, cold shiver trickle down her spine. They've gone ahead and burst to sparks when the voice that holds her name, something that is said a great many of times recently, hits her.
The process of gaining attention never seems to take long. Her sights turn around and welcome the sight of a boy who is almost a man standing behind her. He seems healthier, masculine, a man who looked prepared for the world.
"Hey, Sacre. How are you? It's been a long time."
Her legs question her brain if it would be best to stand and greet the dark colt. She's in firm belief that her body no longer carries enough will to be able to stand, to walk over and see the odd creature that left his body to stare at her growing heap on the floor. It's red body springs a bit of curiosity to her thoughts, but she thinks and remembers if she knows him later on, then she's likely to see that creature again.
"Would you like to join me? Your friend looks," She spares a brief moment to look at the thing one more time before finishing her sentence. "Curious."
She doesn't admit to him that she herself is curious as of who the animal is. Her hair shrouds the pain and misery that lingers about her eyes, the glow of her horn spreading soft light against her feathers. A part whispers low that maybe it is best to hide the feathers, to sweep them away where he could not question such odd changes in appearance. There is a lack of ability like the one that makes her want to rest more, to lay against the cold and mourn, to wither like flowers.
Relentless as the need is, her company halts the need of tears. It is best to try and offer a smile when there are none to be given. It hurts to crack it, try to place happiness against a dying face when she watches him stand there.
I'm sorry. The thought goes without definite direction, whether it is something directed to him or herself, it is unknown. More than ever, she uses it to place more hurt upon herself.

OOC: It's be lovely if you could. c:

@[Sacre]
If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?