Her sensitive nature binds her, allowing her to notice the lop of his ear after she had addressed him royally. Damn. Even though she chastises herself internally, she is able to gauge that his response was only minor; his sliver of pique did not require any sort of rectification on her part. It was far better to just move on and adjust. "Mar is miann leat, Tembovu," she acquiesces in a gentle way, meeting his masculine thunder with the song of soft rain. Her accent elongates the 'o' in his name, but otherwise she is keen to mimic it correctly. 

The tempered cadence of her speech belies a giddy flutter racing through her insides, however; caught by his bright, penetrating gaze, she feels pinned in place until he considers the rest of her. The urge to preen is mercilessly squashed before it grows beyond inkling, and she is finally able to look away with a measure of shyness. There was much value in the ability to be an actress as a spy, but she was still a little thing of dreams and wants and pains; she was far too visceral, a miracle of chemistry given soul, and she succumbed to herself much as anyone would themselves at times.

Although she is attuned to him quite heavily, she remains alert to the background. The chagrined hawk drifts out of view, while its pursuers swerve back whence they came, their nest safe for now. His voice, dark music to her ears, pulls her back to him just as the birds land. Her large slanted eyes peer up at him in an obsidian shine, thoughtful. Massive Panzram, the other one who had made her float and had handled her as easily as a doll, was no where near this stallion's stature. Maybe she had a thing for the size difference? Could they do it? How would that work out? Oh my gods. She nearly rolls her eyes at herself, but catches it in time to make nary a facial twitch. She was turning into a fool right before him but, thankfully, he was none the wiser to it. Yet. It was difficult for her, though. He was a delightful, intoxicating mix of immense power and threat, contrasted against a calm and authoritative deposition. Time would be the revelation of all truths, but for now he appeared capable. It was a drug. "Rest assured, Tembovu, I will personally deliver the message." ...And it was a pleasure to meet you, I bid ye farewell, peace out, later dude...

But none of those words come out of her mouth; she was aware of not over-staying her welcome, but he hadn't exactly dismissed her. In fact, he was asking her something personal. She is momentarily stunned into silence; here she was, gathering information... and while she knew that often necessitated a bit of give-and-take, she wasn't prepared for something that asked her to perform internal reflection. "Ah. Well, I've not much bloodlust. I'll battle as much as I need to, to protect my herd, but this wing..." She shakes her head in surrender. "No magic. I have a bit of herb knowledge, but my strength is in listening. I remember things. I could never meet you again in my life time, but now that I have seen your face, I will always remember it exactly as I see it now until the day I die. What better job for me then?" She ventures closer to him now, angling herself in a more appropriate position to his for a friendlier conversation. "If you don't mind telling me, why are you king now?"

"Talk."