Beyza’s white eyes watch the movement of the small sparks of lightning - wondering if those flashes of light mean the same for him as when they appear for her. Is there something angry, violent, hidden beneath that iridescent surface and he is only allowing it out in that small way? She’s curious, intensely so, but the conversation remains focused on the storm.
So she forgets the lightning sparks and is just entertained by the story he’s sharing. She tries to think if she’s met anyone that shares their name with a bird - if she’s met one of his siblings - and her mind is drifting in that direction when he introduces himself.
She falls still, that practiced smile and the mannerisms she’s perfected keeping up fall away - until she is little more than a statue staring at him where they stand on the shoal.
“Gale.” She repeats - her tone flat. The approaching storm is forgotten, utterly unimportant, and her attention has narrowed entirely on the stallion with her. Small sparks of lightning flicker down her spine too, but she carefully stifles it - wary that his affinity for storms extends into an ability to control their elements.
Beyza is careful, so careful, even though she can feel her carefully packaged emotions coming undone. She needs to be careful and calm. Her magic will not let her tear him apart if she doesn’t make sure. “The same Gale who tormented Tephra?” She asks in that same flat tone, her gaze intense - life returning only in the flaring of her nostrils as she asks her next question. “The same one who tried to kill Ryatah?”
@Gale