Lorielle, a bit shocked to hear a small, soft greeting from the shy Miqo'te beside her, turned her head to look at her. Â She kept her gaze away, clearly trying her hardest to make some light conversation. Â Lorielle knew all too well how she felt, and was impressed that she even made the smallest attempt.
"My name is Lorielle," she said, delighted to hear that her greeting sounded natural and comfortable. Â She had an irrational fear that her voice would crack or she would stutter. Â She had no history of ever doing either. Â "I am glad I did not have to look very hard for a seat," she said, trying her best to have as much input into the conversation as she could. Â It was the least she could do for not having to be the one to break the ice. Â "It's quite packed as it is."
She smiled sweetly, putting forth whatever friendly, inviting energy she could muster. Â She would not let this opportunity at making her first friend slip away from her grasp. Â She took another moment to glance around the cart. Â One of the Miqo'te men finished his face painting, and Lorielle was quite impressed with the results. Â He had an alarmingly steady hand for one who was jostling around in a moving caravan. Â
She averted her gaze rather quickly, not wanting to be seen gawking at anyone. Â She glances over everyone briefly, her eyes falling upon the raven haired man. His head was tilted down, and he was gazing out with downcast eyes. While everyone else seemed content or carrying on light conversation, he sat in silence. She considered saying something to get him into conversation, but she could not think of a thing to say, nor was she certain he was looking to make any friends on this trip.
She realized she had not looked away from him while she thought about speaking to him, and with a small jump jerked her eyes away. She now looked at the two Miqo'te males, listening to their discussion about face paint. She wanted to compliment him, for she was amazed by his skill, but her timidity caused her mouth to remain shut. 'One miracle at a time,' she thought to herself. She was happy to be talking to one person, let alone talking to two more.Â
Speaking of her current conversation partner, a sudden sneeze from Kieaira caused Lorielle's head and shoulders to perk. Â As she apologized aloud to everyone near, Lorielle reached into the pocket of her pants beneath her tunic and withdrew a simple white handkerchief. Â She handed it to the Miqo'te girl, smiling in a way to reassure her that she could use it.
"I never have a use for it," she said, her tone light-hearted. Â "It merely takes up space in my pocket," she chuckled. Â Her aqua eyes were shimmering brightly, seeming to absorb the bright blue of the sky. Â She was grateful for the sun finally rising enough to cast a more white light. Â It took the redness out of her cheeks, slightly more than in the pink-hued morning, anyway.
