Amet chuckles easily at her lighthearted ─ and entirely truthful ─ comment about diplomacy. He can't remember the last time he'd had a conversation with someone, outside of Jah-Lilah, that did not have him watching his tongue or carefully planning his words. Even when one does not have any ulterior motives, thoughts and feelings can be so easily misconstrued. "Ah," he starts with a warm and guileful smile, "Well, to give you a break then, I promise to forget anything anti-diplomatic that you may say today." His words trail off as they fall in step beside each other, Amet making sure to give the woman an ample amount of room to comfortably situate her heavily pregnant belly and the wings that alight on either side of it.
She introduces herself as Ilma, a name that is vaguely familiar to the dragonhide stallion, though he cannot place where he had heard it. More likely than not, Kagerus had mentioned her the day he had visited Silver Cove, or Kensa had named her in passing. Regardless of where it was, the gilded stallion knows he had never heard anything ill of the alabaster mare who walks beside him now and he is immediately comfortable in her presence.
"Ilma," he says with a sly side-eye, "It's nice to finally put a face to the name."
She goads him playfully and the Primarch of Hyaline responds with gentle laughter, his ears fluttering delightedly in her direction as they continue their leisurely walk further into the depths of the sanctuary land. "No pressure, then, I suppose?" he asks with his lopsided grin before tossing his forelock from his eyes and regarding the pegasus woman with faux-bashfulness. "Well then, hit me with your best shot," he tells her playfully, curious of what truths she seeks in this visit to the crystalline lake.
─ don't get cut on my edges
@[Ilma] ♥