Their entire interaction was one that utterly confused her. In her tears she had noticed his expression soften before turning to amusement, causing a twist of confusion and almost hurt tug at her heart. Did he enjoy seeing her feel this way? Was this a game to him that he often played with those he came across, simply for his own sick and twisted pleasure? These thoughts began to make the tears swell more. She wanted to simply sob right there, but part of her refused to give him the satisfaction of her sorrow. So with a deep breath she bit the inside of her cheek, so hard the salty taste of blood flooded her taste buds. It was enough to break the line of tears and for her to become distracted, and she took advantage of it to wipe her face clean and to regain and decent composure.
When he spoke again he seemed to hold a more gentle disposition towards her, his words still blunt but with a softer edge than before. The change of mood left her speechless, her wide eyes watching him in the utmost curiosity. Just who was he? What had made him what he was before her now, and was there anything she could do to help ease the troubles that seemed to weigh him down? She presumed not, he didn't seem the type to simply accept an invitation like that. She listened, still not knowing entirely how to answer him, whether he even wanted an answer or if he just wanted to talk for a little while. She could only let her eyes wander over him and her thoughts run wild on all the possibilities of how this man came to be who he was before her. It was a puzzle she wanted to solve in her own way, yet she knew that others' lives were not something to be toyed with, even if she so badly wanted to do so.
It was his final question that brought confusion to her complexion. With furrowed brows and lips pursed in thought she let the question sit in the air for a few moments, wondering where to go next with it. Did he mean that as in more horses? More spotted girls that cried easily? Was he referring to her personality, age, coloring, status? The list went on and on, and so she couldn't entirely answer his question without getting more answers out of him. So she swallowed, looking at him calmly and pleasantly despite the perplexity still written on her expression, and finally responded to his genuine question," I'm aftaid you'd need to be more specific Sir... I don't know what it is about me you're asking about. I am simply Myrrine, I don't really think about myself that often... if that makes sense." She only hoped she hadn't said the wrong thing again, because she didn't think she could take it if she did. Would he yell at her again or stare her down with those piercing eyes? Was she vulnerable to anything at this point? Or had she managed to miss the floor switch that set the ticking time bomb off inside this unique stranger.
OOC: I'm so sorry I will do better T-T
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