He was perhaps not everyone’s cup of tea. Many wanted some wild man who was brave against the turning of the world, able to resist when the universe shifted on its axis… but they normally also wanted a man doing these things in rejection and resistance to the change. For him, he flowed like fog moving over the land, like mist shifting around the obstacles until he simply ‘was’ and you had to accept it. Contentedly adrift and shifting in the wind currents of life.

Really, his supposition of Naydra was that she found him to sparkle but his sparkle was not precisely her taste in sparkle. Everyone could agree that satin champagne horses shone brilliantly - but that did not mean that flavor was someone’s favorite in a partner. He was beautiful, yes, but perhaps not her flavor of preferred beautiful. Which was acceptable, in any case, and wouldn’t have upset him any more than he seemed.

She agreed with him and he takes that moment of acceptance to offer to bathe her, to be her companion so her bath wasn't idle or boring. She is stunned, shocked, by his idle offer - serious as he was about providing her the boon of having a male trinket who was comfortable with his place in the world. He can see her eyes veiling the whirling thoughts and feelings in her mind and he holds still with an passive smile on his face.

He does not move until she supposes he could, quiet even after taking those silent moments to weigh his…. Sincerity? Motives? "You’re right, the spring is good for that." She says aloud as he moves towards her and uses his broad chest to help the water build up and sweep a wave across her back. He does not touch her at first, simply doing much of the same in repeat, laying his neck and chest low and swishing the water across her back to soothe the tension using the heat.

"Touch." It is a comment and warning, and then he noses the surface water up against her hide and kneads his muzzle, nose, and lips in circle motions - almost mimicking a basic grooming gesture with just a little more pressure and a little more intention into the muscle of her shoulder. His eyes are soft, not half lidded but almost, as he uses that sensitive group of muscles to work over tense places of her upper back and shoulders - cautious and respectful not to pass near to the flank or neck or withers. Always broad places of no mistaken meaning.

"You have spent too much time away from the spring, Miss Clarity. You should treat yourself more kindly and more often." He sighs against her flesh as he works down along her spine, repeatedly washing water up her barrel to where he kneads. "Even if you prefer a more eventful life than I do, the only way to see the fruits of your effort is to take a quiet moment and admire it as a big picture, you know."