At that, her smile, weak and tired though trying, returns to her features. A single tear could slide down from her pale eyes, but the total times she's found herself weeping and drowning within tears of misery, sorrow, and regret have made for a lack of tears. If she's used them all up before she's even old enough to know true misery, then how would she even stand the future?
She let's her thoughts fade away she turns off, only reawakened by the soft caress of her stranger's voice in her ears. They swivel to meet him with a slow approach, careful in how she feels like trusting a stranger who has been more kind than most of her friends. Its tragic, awfully tragic.
Eventually giving in by the turn of her skull, she almost feels herself try to laugh at his facial expression, in how he melts the cold away. The happiness pitched within her features begins to strain under the uncommon use. Throwing stones sounds like child's play, but then again, she hasn't been a child in what feels like decades.
She accepts by finally pulling the ache out of joints that had locked up within her pillars, walking at a slow pace with sunken eyes, a sniffle here and there, and relaxed ears. Her smile fades into simplicity illuminated by the blue glow of her horn. A halt is given with two feet to a yard from him to keep from invasion.
It is then that she is asked the thing that is usually out at the first sight of one another. Their change of situation is welcomed greatly, appreciative of how her privacy couldn't be forcibly ripped from nervous, shaking hands. "Sikeax, but my friends always call me Sia."
Simple, sweet, unique, and lady-like, different from the rest because that's how her mother would of liked it to be, from how the names in her bloodline must be odd for a mother with such a name to give her daughter something as equally unique and special, never repeated over in centuries to come.
What kind of name would be Sikeax, if anything?
It passes her mind that it might be time for introductions, therefore what trust she feels she could barely place within him isn't foreign. You could trust a serial killer without knowing their name and never know you did.
"What about you?" She asks calmly, lowering her head to search the floor for a stone, brushing against it til she finds one enough to cradle in her lips. The toss is delayed once she's found the right one, coming back to up to Stranger in order to capture his name correctly.
@[Roland]