ooc: Gah, fail reply of fail. 3+
To tell the truth, Tala had not thought anything even remotely similar to the thought of the male being overly proud of his pack, showing them off and telling her all about them. Tala just though it was an admiration for what they did there. She knew that if she was surrounded by such talented people, she would be very fascinated by what both the individuals could do, and what the pack as a whole could create. The young female blinked twice as a bewildered smile swept across her face. He was giving her the little horse? The notions and outstretched hand made her reach out extremely slowly before grasping the small object. "This.... this is very kind of you Shawchert. I however can't take this from you. You made it, you deserve keep it." Though she stretched her small hand back out with the wooden craft in grasp, she didn't entirely want to return it, she also felt it was somehow rude to take it. Her mind knew it was also rude to refuse the offer. That was where she was torn. It would also be awfully cute in her new home, sitting by the window. She needed something to liven the place up, and the charismatic little craving would help. The fae's eyes darted like wind between Shawchert's face and her hand, somewhat hoping he would not take the return.
The question he shot in her direction made Tala's head fall to the side slightly. Though her body did not hide it's obvious attributes and downfalls just from size alone, she had never thought of it being the sort of thing to reverse a conversation. Though it seemed like the large man was trying to turn the conversation away from himself and his pack, she couldn't deny him of that if he was starting to feel the presence of any awkward notions. "I wouldn't say I'm a fair hunter, but it has gotten me through years of being alone." The girl was to modest to admit that she was actually good at something. Her smile was weak, almost ashamed to say anything about herself like that. The rasp in her voice was less noticeable as her voice softened, just as it would become opposite if she yelled. When the girl got worked up enough to have to raise her voice, it was almost like it was strained, the sound of feminine depth very potent at that time. "I... I'm sorry, I don't talk about myself very often. It's...hard for me to admit what I'm good at." The look was of embarrassment in her eyes, and her body language swam in it.
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