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Myrika Tears · 11-03-2011, 09:57 PM

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The hybrid was sometimes adept where it came to social situations, navigating them with a gracefulness she would have found surprising, had she observed it from the outside looking in. Other times, it was as if she had never spent a moment of her life around another living being, and she had no idea of what to say. It was easy to interact when she was sure of herself, sure of her conversational partner. She was not sure of Ezekiel, and she was most certainly unsure of herself. The woman slung one arm over her ribs, holding her other elbow, grinning at the statement. It was still a nervous smile, but it did feel nice to be sought after. She still pondered just what reason he had to come and find her.

I didn't, but I can wait, if you'd rather settle business, she said, shrugging a shoulder and offering another polite dip of her head. A lock of rusty hair drifted into her face and she lifted her hand to push it aside, dropping the hand to her side thereafter. Why did she feel so damn awkward? There was no answer, of course, but it was there all the same, gnawing at her and taunting her. It sounded very much like the laughter of children, and Myrika thought she knew which. The Thornloe kids -- would they ever leave her? The tawny woman thought not; those formative months would be with her for the rest of her life, as would the tittering laughter of those cruel pups.

Ah... what was it, anyhow? What you have to talk to me about, I mean, she said, now seeming almost to ramble. That he specifically needed her had only served to make Myrika more nervous, and the cerulean-eyed woman now seemed particularly intent on the shadow in the distance, tail flickering in the air. Eira was quiet now, and Myri thought the mare might wander over for the night soon. She wouldn't meander about all night, nor should she.

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