As if her voice had called them from the woodwork, they arrived in ones and twos, these indigenous Helovians - but with what agenda? Manon eyed each one as they arrived, carefully neutral, a sharpness hovering around her lips all that spoke of her wariness. She watched them with no more than tolerance, a look that spoke of studiousness, a scholarly willingness to learn: despite her predisposition toward silence, toward loneliness (though it could be argued that this was a facade). Here, she was the outsider, the invader - and she was being greeted with warmth. She would start with the first: the man that bounced on his toes and held himself with regal intent. An ex-soldier? Disgraced royal? A man that could not quite hide his past, she surmised. He was certainly charming, with the wildness in his hair and the stoic grace of his muddied legs, the pleasant gleam of his intelligent eyes. When he bows he reminds her of Saker: not completely sincere, though she could appreciate the effort. A wry smile twists her velveteen lips and she answers with something like simple gratitude; "Thank you for your welcome." But she does not give her name.

The mother and son come next - and instantly Manon feels a kindred spirit in the woman, more so than she does for any man, no matter how charming. She can appreciate the softness of her skin, the tired eyes and the strength that kept her moving, even the mothers worry etched into her lips. And while Sikeax might have thought of herself as plain, Manon could only adore the simplicity of her soft skin or the intensity of her ice blue eyes. She saw only beauty, in all forms. She'd have been more than happy to stroke Sikeax's soft brown hair, kiss her weary shoulders and promise her she wasn't unnoticed. Her kaleidoscope eyes were all that spoke of her thoughts, and as such they lingered upon Sikeax for longer than any of the newcomers, before flicking to her adolescent son. She pauses, then begins to speak; "The Dragons Throat?" Her voice is lower than would be expected, but melodic. Her gaze switches again between Hé and Sikeax before continuing "I'm -".

"Salutations!" Her mouth snaps shut and her head follows the sound to the forest for the entrance of a final participant. He's handsome, in a country-boy kind of way. While he chattered to Sikeax, Manon examined him with interest. Not for his looks - she wasn't interested in him for that, and besides, if it came to it, Hé would have been a more exciting counterpart. This man looked as if he belonged to a comfortable home, his hair brushed and his belly full. Manon remained silent, for she was a quiet woman, and spoke only when she thought necessary - something she thought the antlered man could have benefited from. Attention turned once again to her, and again her mouth twitched into an amused smile. She waits for the tirade of words to finish, breathing quietly until "-seaspray?" It comes out almost desperately, desire for the salt and sea rising underneath her soft skin. A real smile begins, and Manon introduces herself properly, fluidly. "Hé, Sikeax, Tyrath.." she looks suddenly to the newcomer, all those words and no name! ".. I am Manon." As an afterthought she adds, "Congratulations on your child."

ooc; Feel free to tag me when it's my turn! <3