Silence envelopes the rose lass as she awaits an answer, legs too weary to carry her on their golden ribboned pillars further towards the borders. Her thoughts are a maelstrom, one she stubbornly ignores after the countless days spent tiring herself by getting swept up in it, fighting to overcome it. The winds are cool on sweat dampened skin, stirring pale coral and cream tresses against the low arch of her neck. It's pleasant after her endless plodding, to just rest and enjoy the breeze. Stare with tired lavender eyes into the greenery of the lush forest surrounding her, ears twitching pathetically at the distant sounds of water.

She's not alone too terribly long, although Muriel had already known she would await a patrol instead of searching one out, with her exhausted frame. Shuffle of wings and the barely audible chitter of a bird draws her tiara heavenwards, searching the lattice of canopied branches above for a form that is soon revealed. It is a stag, composed of ivory and shadows with fierce golden glimmers accenting the powerful frame that alights with contrasting gentleness before her. Despite her weariness she refuses to be impolite, forcing her hooves forth upon the greenery to approach him. Drops her crown respectfully as she peers up beneath pale pink lashes.

Voice rings out, deep and unfamiliar in ears that have only ever tuned to Leliel. Muriel is unsure for a moment how to answer, used to seeking in Leliel's place instead of deciding something for her own benefit and her own alone. "I was hoping for a family," she admits with soft soprano vocals, only to squint in embarrassment and shake her tiara at her wording. "A home. Sorry." Apology comes far too naturally, accustomed to constant desiring for forgiveness for a multitude of tiny things she deemed wrong when it came to Leliel. It seemed all she knew was how to apologize. Wings shuffled and hugged her sides, comforting herself in silence.

Glancing up she smiled, and despite her exhaustion it was just as pure and sweet as it always was, innocent and endearing as she cast it upon Midas. "My name is Muriel. I...I have no talents, but I can learn!" She was quick to assure, assuming she would be turned away for her ineptitude, desperate to promise she would attempt to remedy her inadequacies. Even so her smile never wavered, tentatively moving closer in hopes of companionship, aware of the tension shuddering on the stallion's frame and hesitating in the face of it. It seemed even when worn out she was still too exuberant.