As the sound of the snapping twig reached the girl's ears, her body gave an involuntary jump. Her reflexes had been doing that to her quite often lately - things would compel her to move even without her rational mind's permission. She wished it would stop. Even now, as her muscles twitched and her muzzle and gaze moved towards the sound, she clenched her teeth together trying to halt the movement. The greenery which had been creeping up her body fell off, leaving a mossy and grassy ring around her painted form. Few things annoyed the girl - she had learned that unlike many others she had met, she was not susceptible to anger or frustration on a normal basis - however now, she was annoyed. Unlike the first few times she had used her magic with Mesec, a break in concentration now did not cause them to fall apart. They did however, stop moving.

As her golden stare fell upon the excited (and rather small) one-winged colt, her frustration significantly diminished.

The earthen-dragons, which had stopped moving, began slowly lumbering around the pond again as her attention was diverted back to them. A small smile graced her lips as she dipped her quad-horned head in confirmation. "Yes I did." She responded, her voice devoid of any pride, though it was still warm and soft. "I can make them out of water, too." Her follow up comment wasn't meant as a way of bragging, merely fact stating. If the boy found her earthen creations interesting, perhaps he would find her water creations interesting too.

"I am not a spirit. I don't think that they exist." She continued conversationally. Her paint-splattered body leaned to the side slightly so that she could more easily see the boy, without having to keep her neck bent so severely. "And I don't have a name. I haven't decided on one yet. Do you have a name?"

Although the girl was larger than Zèklè, she had come to understand that her rate of growth wasn't normal. She had seen others her age, born in the Edge at the same time, who still looked quite young - at least compared to the demi-child. Looking at Zèklè now she wondered if he was in fact technically older than her.

As her golden gaze appraised his one-winged stature, the girl decided that she liked him. Whatever his name was. He wasn't afraid of her like others were, and he asked questions. Most were annoyed with her when she berated them with questions, and even fewer asked anything of her other than to elaborate on her lineage. Smiling, she made her earthen-dragons lumber towards Zèklè, their bodies towering over him as they danced in circles.