Out of her large family, Lailah was the quietest of the bunch. Even her father who was mute was louder than, but with his personality rather than his voice. The little angel was as introverted as they come, her interaction with anyone outside of her family limited to queen Daenerys and her friend Halcyon. Her social skills lacked substantially, her entire being seemed to shut down when confronted with another wolf. Her actions and words were awkward, if she even spoke at all. But there was one small miracle in her life, one wolf who she could interact with comfortably. Every alarm bell that went off in her head, that sent in into a panic in the presence of others, was left silenced by him. Orifel was special, he was more than just special, he was her soul. Fate had granted her the piece of her missing puzzle, a confident wolf to protect her innocence and kindness, one who would bring her peace in trying times. With him she was whole, she could be herself without the constant fear of others judging. He helped boost her self confidence to levels it had never been before.

She felt his pain, its ache having shot through her body so suddenly she worried for a moment something was wrong with her. The bond that connected the two young wolves was powerful, but also quite scary. Lailah admired the bond of her parents, how they were more than best friends and lovers, how they were everything to counter all their flaws. But at the same time imprinting terrified the tiny angel girl, the magic capable of being deadly by way of the same connection that made her feel his pain. Stories of imprints dying and their other half dying as well, the grief and pain too much for their shattered soul to handle and so they simply follow after their lost imprint. The shadow angel could not bare to think of the possibility of losing Orifel or inadvertently hurting or killing him through their shared bond. It was why she left the mountain in such a rush, she had to find him, had to make sure he was okay. He would be whatever she wanted him to be, and in return she would always be there for him, to support him even if she had no idea what she was doing; instinct and their connection would tell her what to do.

The pretty girl finds him quickly, knowing where he is without even having to think. When her small white form approaches, his face immediately lights up with a handsome grin as if nothing is wrong. ”Why hello there, Lailah.” he says with smooth baritones, his sheer confidence at all times something she envied quite a bit. She cannot stop the light dusting of pink that sneaks its way onto her cheeks, but it is quickly gone as she remembers why she was drawn here, to him, in the first place. His grin fades to a frown as she mentions his injuries, his hurt pride showing and his distinct displeasure at the idea of their shared pain. ”Me? Hurt? No, no, no I’m fine! Perfectly fine see!?” he quickly counters her statement, jumping to his paws, the movement causing an ache to shoot through him.

As much as he may like to try and fool her, the quiet girl was quite smart, innocent but smart. His grin his charming but does not deceive the snowy girl, and it is extremely evident as she continues her serious questioning, earning a crinkle of his nose. "Ah, well fine," Orifel says with a snort, giving in to her determination to know what happened to him, a trait she had picked up from her mother that would come in handy in dealing with the angel boy. ”I was kicked during a hunt. But I killed it. Well pretty much killed it. I had some help. Just a little though. I didn’t need them I could have done it on my own.” he explains, stretching the truth in his explanation but she cared little, let him believe what he liked. She moved closer to him, feeling his heat radiating off of him that tempted her to reach out and touch, but still she could not do it. Blue and green eyes watered, tears threatening to spill and roll down her cheeks. "I could feel it....." she whispered quietly, staring up at him with a caring look.

She let the silence fall between them for a moment before continuing. "I felt when you got kicked, the pain. I had to find you, make sure you were okay," she whispers, the sweetness in her voice almost toothache worthy, possibly able to attract every honey bee in the vicinity. And then she is overwhelmed with emotion, causing her to do something she never expected: gently she pushed her head into his plush chest, finding comfort and reassurance in the touch that he was okay, that he was still there and not imaginary. The tears spilled out suddenly, she could no longer top them from pouring out. Maybe he'd see her as over emotional and think her girly and weak, but she could not stop herself from caring and caring deeply. "I don't want you to get hurt, and I don't want to hurt you," she whispers, continuing to keep her head buried in his chest. To some it was overly dramatic, but for her it was her worry. She wasn't the best at expressing her emotions without being completely overwhelmed by them.