Yet again, she's wading through thoughts thicker than blood, staining her mental legs and holding her back when the wind is throwing sand to her eyes and the heat bakes her within an oven larger than you could find yourself believing in. The border is empty today, and since today is everyday, she can find no reason to have herself wandering beside it. There are no flowers for her to smell and visitors to greet. No one wants to come to the Dragon's Throat, and she finds no reason not to blame them. Who would want to live in a dust bowl?
Sikeax and the rest of her family, that was.
Slow in her pace and deep into her thoughts, thinking through the words of what she had been told and trying to figure out what most meant when they were speaking to her, she may of just cast off the sound to be nothing but a passing bird, or the sound of a family member returning home and announcing their return to the rest of the herd. Her list of friends in the Throat was almost nothing. In sheer curiosity, she picked up to a slow canter and found herself moving along the border and taking her patrol at a greater speed.
In the end, it wasn't a family member. He clung scents to him, and none of those smells were shared by her. Typically, one found standing at the border would be greeted with aggression. Past experiences with the rude greetings from members of the Aurora Basin taught her that it did nothing good for the image of her family.
Whoever he was, he was nothing that she hadn't seen before. If you've seen one, then you've already seen them all. He's patient in her eyes when she slows with an uneasy attitude. Her muscles are tense and her heart offers in a soft reassuring tone that it is fine to act this way. It was only her first time to greet an unknown visitor at the border of her home and she believed that she was taking her actions the right way.
Eye contact is given to him. She finds nothing wrong with his appearance, and while staring, she finds no reason to feel the way she is feeling. She should feel more bold, more willing to speak outwards to someone like this, but her heart is weak and frail with all that has recently occurred and can find nothing better to do than to slide in the pit of her rib cage and sulk.
So much for courage, so much for bravery.
"Hello, visitor. I am Sikeax, of the Dragon's Throat. What may I help you with?"
Her style of approach may not have been the kind that any of the soldiers would take to, but well into the belief that it is easier to take a gentle approach to other, she knows already that her heart is not strong enough to blast hate and disgust at the stranger at first glance.
Everything about her is held high, head held where it seems neither snobby or rude, where she can make him feel as if she takes him as an equal. This is a time for her to learn, and eager as she may be, it's not one that she can fully admit to be prepared for.

@[Biru]
If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?