At first, eyes cold and blue as slate met her own figure.  A face impassive, immovable staring back at her, silently soaking in her words and offering nothing in return other than the flick of pupils in her direction.  Regret threatens to battle its way to the surface of her psyche, disturbing the peaceful shadow king in the meadow which seemed to be dying at his hooves.  Instead, a fool's innocence grants her a reprieve, like it had in her time spent with Thranduil.  Nothing except the rather unenthused reaction garners her notice, for that at least was impossible to ignore.

When he begins to move, Zyanya refrains from abiding the urge to step backward, instead she stands still, like a figure made of fine porcelain as the shadow animates.  An arch brow precedes the polite acceptance of her gratitude, though the feeling resounding in her chest because of it is hollow.  Deimos, at the very least, did not seem to understand what her thanks had meant.  Were his figure less imposing, it might have been more apparent the awkward state she had placed him in.  Unlike the vibrant and glimmering presence of Hotaru, Deimos seemed more suited to avoiding contact, staying at a distance, than conversation.

At least, this is what Zyanya can feel between the rattling beat of her heart and the moments passing in silence.

Despite being little more than a bird meant to keep others company back home, something about the stallion forced words to hold still in her throat now, unable to really think of anything that wouldn't trouble him to listen to.  Yet, it is all the more strange to hear the question posed by a voice flat, as though spoken from the lips of the dead, from a stallion who seemed unattached to the world around him.  "I do," her voice flutters forward nervously, yet there is only honesty in her heart.  The Aurora Basin had become a haven for her, despite having nothing to answer for the hospitality as of yet.

"I think often that I am not quite enough for such a place."  Likely, he would understand, as she did not hold the miraculous gift to heal as Lena, nor to create as Johnny.  She could not put on a false face as Thranduil had, nor could she defend her home as Deimos surely could.  "Everyone else is quite incredible, really."  A shy smile forms on her lips as she glances down to the flowers by her hooves, forgetting for a moment she is speaking to her Lord, to a shadow, to unblinking ocean eyes.  It is until she looks back to the straight, proud horn and the strong frame of a leader, her final words escaping before reality can cut them off in her throat:

"I am trying to become someone of value to you."
""

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ooc -- sorry for the wait <3

We've made a fool out of love, when all we want is to be enough
when all we want is to feel enough