Certainly, she sees a concealed kindness within him; kindness, she thinks, presents itself so very differently from time to time. He does not resonate with, say, a playful kindness or a paternal kind and yet, she feels her senses lower around him, lured in by his unusual good nature. Eccentric, she thinks, and yet somehow harmless. At least, for now. She sees his strength even in his youth, an unavoidable thing as he poses about, the morning sun illuminating the contours of his face and body with remarkable clarity. There is something strange about him that goes deeper than just his looks and actions, she thinks, and yet for now, he is not a threat but merely a potential answer to a question she never intended to pose in the first place.
She nodes his snort with a subtle tilt of her head and yet, she does not delve into or press the issue. Instead, she remains fixated on him with intense curiosity. It is an infallible anticipation, a feeling like heaviness and sinking as she awaits for some grand answer. Her ears cannot help but flicker to attention the moment his unusual voice begins to break the silence once more; he does and she squirms ever so slightly, brows furrowing and lips twisting down into a conflicted expression. Angel. The word makes the corner of her eye twitch. Perhaps it is those... quirks, her silence, that ensures he continues with his words. She listens and does her best to smooth her features, her lips pulling up into a more amiable expression as he mentions running.
"Though you may be a shadow, tell me, would you be content living beneath a shadow?" She poses the question with a kind voice, a brow sliding up in curiosity though she shrugs away the words with an elegant flick of her tail. "You say it is a shame that I do not know them. Why is that?" The question is without malicious intent yet her brows furrow nonetheless, frustrated at how easily she has been called out. She is, after all, marked with the stars of her mother and never the blood red of her father and yet, her face betrays her it seems. Something betrays her and it makes her squirm. All she wishes for, after all, is to be herself in a world that seems so very content to force her into the shadows.
She sways slightly as he speaks again; she smirks, a small thing and yet so very startling on a face so gentle. Her smirk is suddenly sharp and clear, her eyes hard for a moment before her face falls into the passiveness it is used to. Perhaps Heyel has used her like a mirror in those moments, both amused and defensive. "Who would bring back such words? Those words cannot be good. They cannot be used for peace." She offers these words now, sharper and more... confident she feels, a sudden conviction in her voice. She almost rises taller, prouder, and yet she was born to shrink back. Yet, she speaks once more, calm again as she simply utters her name with another polite bow, unphased by his implication of secrecy. Shy as she might appear, she is not a wolf shrouded in secrecy. Let it be known that she is back for she is certain she can outrun anything that seeks to pull her beneath a ceaseless shadow. "Elara," named for a moon, small and lost.