Whatever had just occurred was unexpected, and as far as Nayru was concerned, unwanted. Her ears lay flat as Gideon questioned her, considering the situation: her own actions, Gideon's reactions, and now the fluid that pooled upon him and because of her. It was all very confusing and yet seemingly very natural all at once; meekly she answered him: "I don't know." No one had explained this to her, but somehow her primal instincts told her this was not how it was suppose to go. No disappointment came to her voice, but she couldn't help feeling some. Whatever Conor and Bris had had between them surely it was not this. Yet Gideon seemed pleased and so the girl tried to rally her own spirits.
"Are you… okay?" Her voice seemed distant, as if it came from somewhere else. Easily she slid not away from him, but simply to his side. No longer atop him the piebald lady surveyed him in the dark. Whatever had just occurred was surely fine. Yet she felt displeased, dissatisfied. As if there should perhaps be something more. However to say such seemed strange just then, so the girl settled in beside the man and waited, only allowing a large breath of air to escape reluctant lungs.