The winds, they scream your name

Nox waited patiently for him to respond to her voice. He had heard her speak, that much was certain, for every muscle in his body seemed to twitch and become rock-solid. Then he turned slowly, as though something sharp was pressed to his throat. Eyes like filtered gold landed upon her paired with a withered smile. Oh, how he made a show out of it! It was entertaining, but not very convincing, especially to a creature that nitpicked every detail. He trembled like a leaf caught in the wind, a subtle bit of conversation that went unspoken but not unnoticed. Whether he was just chilly or found her presence unsettling, was up for debate. Either way, she made no effort to draw any further attention to it and instead focused on the admirable aspects. He was lovely to look at despite being a bit shorter than herself. His pelt was a blend of warm colors that she found easy on the eyes. She could have studied the combination of markings and color for hours. However, out of courtesy, she kept from staring too long or too intently. Instead, she offered a pleasant smile to hopefully settle any riled nerves. It was the polite thing to do, but she would've gotten more joy out of watching him squirm.

Something about him incited a sort of… well, not trust… but comfort? Though his gaze was sharp, it reminded her of someone trying entirely too hard to be something they were not. She could relate in a way, but that chapter of her life had long ended. When he took a seat, she wasted no time in joining him. It was a clear invitation, which she was not keen to refuse. Nox moved toward him with grace, a smile continuously drawn across her lips. She settled directly in front of him, tail curling around her side. Her ears twitched as the vibrations of his words tickled her ears. A trickle of laughter seemed to soften the tense-nature of his face. It was a good look, though she could tell it was forced. “Oh, I believe it.” She gave a brief but velvety laugh. “I came from the South and found myself terribly unconditioned for the cold.” The diverse biomes and weather provided a heightened sense of adventure, but it was hard to adjust to.

Finally, he gave a name to put to that handsome face of his. It was Quinn, as he introduced in a polite fashion. She found the gentlemanly act endearing but like any good teacher, she sought to correct his parlance: They were not at a ball or in a business meeting, and thus the formality was not needed. “A pleasure, Quinn. Although, I would take caution calling young-ladies ‘madam’. It could be seen as an insult rather than chivalry. Madam is something you might address an older lady as. Most would prefer ‘miss’ or ‘my lady’.” Nox explained as gently as she could, men often had such fragile egos. “But in my case, It's simply Nox.” She bowed her head and then decided to steer the conversation several steps backward. “So, do you often become excited over soil? Or it is simply this soil in particular that excites you?” She paused as to rethink her choice of words. “What I mean is, most do not find dirt of any quality especially thrilling.”