She is skittish, like Rowan. It’s almost comforting, but they are on far different levels. And, it seems, for far different reasons. Rowan is shy and unwilling to become involved in conversation because she is awkward, nervous around others because she has long been ridiculed for the brilliance of her photographic mind. However it seemed that Resplendence was not wary for the same reasons. In fact she seems to be on a rather extreme level of it, and Rowan relaxes her face into a soft look of understanding. It has been a long, long time since she has encountered another like her, someone who fears social interaction. But no, Resplendence fears far more than that. Rowan is analytical, discovering small things in every twitch of her muscles. She twitches at every sound, eyes darting around. No, Resplendence fears far more than Rowan could ever bring forth, but the chocolate mare is oblivious to what could have caused it. Was it an event? Was it something she was born with, like Rowan and her memory? Was it trauma? An act? So many answers to a single question that, in Helovia, defines everyone. Helovia is a strange place to be with even stranger inhabitants. Even so Rowan isn’t unnerved or driven away by the quiet, anxious nature of the mare. She merely continues to flick her tail in a comfortable, recorded rhythm. It soothes her, at least, counting the beats and breaths, the sensations and timings. Maybe it will soothe Resplendence as well, for the mind is often comforted by simple motions it does not even recognize are happening.

”N-Never knew that. So I guess…” Rowan sighs softly, used to this response. It’s something she has acquainted herself with, the awkward fumbling, and the queer glances. Even so a shy smile stretched over the pretty face of the fae, and Rowan smiles back tremulously. It is a small victory for the both of them, but Rowan doesn’t move any closer nevertheless, remembering the recoil of muscles when she had done it the first time. It doesn’t bother her as much as others, for she isn’t necessarily a touchy person. In fact she shies away from it, having been alone most of her childhood and adolescent life. Not being close to Resplendence is more of a comfort to her than anything else. Touch is precious, and it is only shared with Sohalia, who is the only person to ever worm their way completely into Rowan’s heart. Similarly colored femme waves away her apology, but the whisper is not missed. ”Getting away from my thoughts…it’s nearly impossible…” she whispers mournfully, not realizing she was saying it out loud. Her mind was a gift and a curse, words that came directly from her mentor. ”We all have something to run from, don’t we?” Ocean blue eyes turning to Resplendence, honest but silently pleading for her not to feel invaded or bare. Rowan doesn’t know emotions very well, and there is a desperation to her tone and face that she struggles to hide. Always a struggle.