The woman's reaction is, ultimately, a little unexpected. She drops and yet, her hackles rise like fire down her spine. I pause to observe it, my head tilting slightly as I assess this unusual display. It is barely fear and yet, barely aggression; like a confused middle point of the two. Nonetheless, it satisfies me enough to believe that she is no immediate threat and so, I allow my own hackles to begin lowering. It is an incentive too, a subtle suggestion that she follows suit. For now, my aggression is subdued enough to make way for curiosity. Intruders are few and far between and often, they come with too much bravado and yet, she comes without it. Curious, really. Strange, perhaps.

Her answer makes my brow twitch. My eyes follow upwards, towards where the blue butterflies idly drift in the wind. They are a favorite of the children, I believe. When my eyes move back to her, I notice that she has once again restrained her posture, her demeanour more submissive than previously. I am glad to see it and so, I release my posture further, allowing my legs to relax though my tail remains casually raised, a gentle reminder that a change in my posture does not change my social position. "Did you find them to your liking?" I almost ask it in jest, a brow raising again as if to quietly challenge her claim. I do not doubt that she was chasing them and yet, were they truly fascinating enough to merit her not noticing Glorall's perimeter?

It does not take long for my suspicions to be answered; she was no taught to check, she says, and so my brows instantly furrow in confusion. I suppose I understand it however. As a child, I was prone to disobeying the social laws - borders were inconsequential at such a time. It is often, though, something we are forced to grow out of one way or another, be it through violence or a desire to avoid it.

I remain quiet for a moment, following her gaze towards the waters beyond. My ear flickers when she speaks of Glorall's beauty, and I move to face her once more. I observe her face carefully, investigating her eyes and each muscle of her features. I seek out lies, deceit, any ill fated attempt at cunning and yet, I only find a youthful uncertainty and curiosity. It makes me inclined to respond with a roll of my shoulder, taking a step forward and pivoting slightly to better face the shorelines and ocean. "This is Glorall and I, its leader," I state it passively, eyeing her for a moment to watch for a response before I watch the waves in the distance. "You say you were not taught to check for boundaries. Where are you from that such a thing is not important?" My head tilts again, though I only watch her from my peripherals, assured she is no threat. It is a direct question and yet, I feel I have the right to ask such a thing; I am being merciful, after all, and all I ask is that she satiates my need for new knowledge.