Confusion. Shame. Displeased with her own actions. Really, she needed to learn to bulk up. She needed to learn just what it truly meant to be strong. She had lost that tiny smidgen of strength the second she had seen her young one slaughtered before her eyes - all because she had been told to run. If she had tried to fight, oh how things might have been so different! But, yet, here she was beside someone who was trying to offer protection, comfort, warmth, and the only reason she dared even shuffle her trembling frame closer to his massive, winged one was because she knew if she didn't she would die of frost-bite in this weather she had only attempted to avoid.

Life as an outcast was not something that had suited her very well, and while the northern lights were still dancing in the sky around her she did not allow that to attempt to calm her. No. Apparently her warmth against him had staved away some of the chill that was beginning to nip at both of their bodies, but she didn't truly recognize it. He, on the other hand, did. A sigh of what she could only match with contentment had escaped his muzzle as he blew out into the world around them, her eyes locking upon the cloud as it fizzled away into the sky, twirling around in a dance with the wind.

She asks a question, uncertain about exactly what his wings were made of, shame pulling her face away from him and his puzzled glare. His voice reaching her perked up audit. Soft, delicate, almost unnoticed 'don't be sorry'. But, really, there was tons to be sorry about. There was the fact that she couldn't even allow a tiny bit of her to start to trust him. There was the fact that she was so clueless and so scared. There was the fact that she really wasn't any more knowledgeable about the world than a filly out in the open. But hadn't she been raised that way? Locked up in a little cove in the corner of a war stricken world so that she would stay forever innocent - her parents not expecting the war to ravage directly upon them, and when it did it left her alone and lost. The last words from her parents lips being "Run" So that's all she was raised to do - to run. Everything was out to get her. She had never been trained to fight. She had never allowed anything close enough to her to fight for that matter. That might, really, be the only reason that she was alive at this moment.

So, with a heart racing and muscles trembling she forced herself back into her protective shell. Her entire frame almost swaying a little with the breaths she forced to a timed rhythm. In for ten, hold for ten, out for ten. In for ten, hold for ten, out for ten. Her body slowly, but surely, beginning to calm the racing of her heart and the trembling of her muscles from the anxiety and the desire to get up and just run. She knew, deep down, that if she really ran, that she would probably only run farther and farther into the cold. After his words of explanation left his lips and she had fully calmed herself down she allowed her maw to stretch out toward his canopy of a wing in order to feel this for herself.

She spoke, making a comment about the clouds, how she didn't truly know what they felt like and he made it sound as though everyone knew. Again, her head tilted down in a bit of shame as she listened to the rest of his vocals begin to float out into the air around her, legs moving at twice the speed of his in order to make up for their size difference. "I-I know what the conception is, sir. I meant I'd never actually felt a cloud..." she murmured, eyes trained upon the ground as she continued to shuffle her feet forward. Again, apologizing for not realizing these things since she had never seen a winged creature other than Quilyan.

The golden one spoke up again, telling her not to apologize before asking about the name she had presented. "Yes... he's the one who's badly injured," she whispered, eyes shooting up at his sigh and then shifting a little as he started to look at the skies behind them. Her eyes locked upon the same clouds which his did and uncertainty began to go through her steps as they continued to move forward. The pace was a little quicker, but not too bad, as they pushed forward through the snow, his frame managing to snag most of it out of the way so that she didn't have to plow through it herself. Worry was upon his face, increasing her trembling as she dropped her gaze back to the snow covered ground they were shuffling through.

His voice reaching her audit once more, asking what she did for fun. For fun? She had never really had fun, had she? Thinking back on it - all of her actions had been out of fear or worry. She swallowed once, returning liquid to her dry throat as she glanced up at him quickly before back at the ground, the pace easily beginning to warm up her muscles more now, though she was certain to stay a good breadth away from his wing. "I-I have never really... done anything... for fun..." She whispered, eyes shutting for a second as she fought the urge to shake her head, shame flooding her features. Was she really that strange? Was she really that broken? So much so that she had never done anything for fun? It tore her apart. It shattered her even further, realizing how many cracks and breaks were really in her soul.

She was that broken toy that no one would really ever want...