Adria
I felt nothing at all, freedom of the fall
If only she’d realized just how upset she’d made him. Leaving @[Jinn] on the fateful day had been hard (as it went against the very fiber of Adria’s being) but standing here in hopeful silence, watching his mouth gape open and his eyes narrow with a hint of mistrust ... that’s almost worse for the Nereid. It felt like being on trial for a crime, one where she had no base to defend herself or her actions because she was terribly guilty from the beginning. Putting herself into his skin at that moment came easily to the sympathetic mare, and when viewing herself and the lame apology through his eyes, she doesn’t fault him for his disbelief.
Only, she couldn’t discern that his doubt was caused by a lifetime of being shunned.
To the idealistic female it had everything to do with decorum and nothing to do with appearances, so she finds herself mildly shocked at his admission that what had happened between them was a regular sort of thing. Her sedate, hopeful stare crashes around her eyes and mouth, transforming into heartache that he might plainly see how his words had affected her. “How cruel,” The seamare blurts out foolishly, still unable to comprehend his situation fully, “no wonder you’re in such great pain.”
And then, because it seemed wholly natural and acceptable to offer physical comfort in a moment of distress, Adria reaches out towards him with every intention of brushing her nose over the gold-white skin of his own.
She’s never touched or been touched by an elder male, so if he allows it the moment will freeze like the bare branches around them, preserved and quiet like fallen snow under their hooves for her to recall some other time. “I don’t even know your name.” The ethereal creature murmurs pleasantly, half shy and half passion, “But I’d like to know that and much more, stranger. Would you come with me to Silver Cove if I asked?”