There is something almost...mocking about the way he speaks. Amusement, perhaps? But she doesn't know what she said that was funny. Romina is not perceptive or wise enough to catch his tells, but her intuition sparks momentarily. Orange eyes slant towards him for a moment as if daring him to continue, trying to analyze what was making her feel the way she was. But she was just a child, and a very young one at that. She tosses her soft short mane and instead preens dramatically, a playful smile pulling at her lips. She glances at him from the corner of her eyes, trying to appear elegant and important for the charade. ”You’re learning quickly, skeleton boy,” she pronounces with a lilted voice, jokingly trying to replicate something poncy and aristocratic.

Of course, such playfulness is not nearly as fun or intriguing (to Romina, that is) as the conversation the boy offers. She swivels to face him better, contemplating his words and tilting her little face as if to analyze him from a different angle. Hums softly in her throat and smiles like she holds the secrets of the universe, regardless of her age. This boy is proving to be quite the interesting sort, and Romina eagerly sinks her claws into him. When she tires of him she will release him once more, but for now he is engaging enough to warrant her attention.

”I never said scary. I said interesting.” It is a distinction she finds important, and one she will emphasize mysteriously to the dark gem of a child. ”A monster is not what you are. It’s what you do.” And her eyes glint for a moment, as if she is excited to begin those actions herself someday. But instead Romina flicks her long tail and prances back into the field, unwilling to award anyone her constant full attention. ”But...the ones who look like monsters are more interesting,” Romina continues, her brother’s handsome face flickering in her mind’s eye. Her father’s mangled horn, Kiada’s dark features, the various beasts of the Basin that haunted the frozen earth.

”Because they grow up and everyone whispers. They grow up different. I like to see how different.” Romina angles her gaze back to Kid, suddenly sharp. As if trying to see beneath his skin to the personality beneath. A jeweler with a precious gem beneath her powerful scope. ”That’s why we are both different.” It’s stated simplistically, as if Romina doesn’t have to explain her opinion any further. As if there is no way she could possibly be wrong. Her assumption of him is concrete fact to her, if only because she has lived the childhood of abnormal appearance as well. Kinship, if you would.

He follows her into the field of flowers, and she smiles, pleased. Flicks her tail at him and grins around milk teeth as he introduces himself. Kid. And then he compliments her joking title, and Romina already knows she will not be one to use his name. Her own little version of power, to reject his name and substitute her own. Or perhaps it’s because his name is so simple, more of a description than a name. But boring skeleton is simply too much of a mouthful for a name. ”Then I’ll call you Bones,” Romina hums decisively, allowing no argument with the tilt of her smile and the conclusive nod of her muzzle.

Her laugh pours from her mouth, delighted by the rebuttal of naming. ”Call me Fawn, if you wish. Names are powerful things, you know. Rulers should always have a title instead of a name.” At least, that’s what she believed. Her father had a title, and her mother’s name was well known in the land as well. She plucks a bright flower - white and pink - from the earth with her teeth. Turning, she moves to try and place it in Kid’s mane. ”Fawn and Bones. Far more mysterious,” she pronounces with a wide grin. Mystery is a childish notion for now, but she revels in it as surely as any other, truly innocent child.