As he reaches out to her, she quivers, as if torn by the urge to run and hide, and concern twists his heart. But so gentle, and soft, is his touch, that she stills slightly, and when he pulls away, she reaches out, muzzle against his, small against large, white against black, her ruby eyes with a touch of nerves. Argetlam still moves away, only fueled by her quiet need, and turns to begin on his project, heart nearly broken by the sorrow she emanates. What has happened to such a sweet, fragile filly? She is scarred along her left flank, a massive scar, a scar which is unlike any Argetlam has ever seen before. He wonders of it, but senses it would not do to bring it up.

When he finishes, and slips it round her head, the fragile filly seems to be in near tears. Yet she smiles, a smile that transforms her from a forlorn, pale figure to the filly she should be- full of exuberance and excitement. Well, maybe she's not there yet, but Argetlam's determined she will, even if it means giving her a new present everyday. No horse, especially not a filly, deserves to be wallowing in misery. The filly speaks, stuttering slightly, reminding the metal-bender strongly of his own rumbling, mumbling, tones, words that run together hastily or too far apart. Nayati, she says. "Good." The dapple gray sighs.

Nadira, too, seems surprised and touched by his token. She lets it slide down her pearl horn, pretty as ever, and the stallion, feeling even more grizzled and dirty than ever beside her, smiles awkwardly, feeling hot with embarrassment with her praise of him. It's really not to difficult, to create a simple ring, but he's not sure if it would be rude to say he didn't put too much effort into it. "Oh, um... you're welcome." Argetlam murmurs, backing away, shy as Nayati he feels. Luckily, the beautiful mare turns her attention to Nayati, her sapphire eyes no longer settled on him, giving him a sense of quiet relief. He's intimidated by the gorgeous white mare- it was strange, he had never been bothered by Ailith's beauty once he began to talk a bit. Then again, Ailith wasn't soft-spoken and gentle necessarily.

Argetlam doesn't know if he should accompany Nayati and possibly Nadira or continue to hone his metal-crafting skills. It would probably be polite but he doesn't really feel up to more carefully constructed conversation. It's just so... difficult. So the dapple gray watches the two of them, debating and weighing the pros and cons.