Her effervescence is a balm to your uncertainty and anxiety; you mirror her grin with one of your own, glad to have the shadows of your last encounter so effortlessly washed away. Her praise is met with a reddening of your cheeks beneath the constellations of freckles, happiness clear in your shining brown eyes. "Thanks! I wanted 'em to be good." Which is perhaps a little boastful from anyone else, but for you the statement of fact is as straightforward and humble as any bashful deference.
She agrees to help, which has you somehow smiling broader as you bounce up on your toes. "Great! You can draw whatever you want- I was doin' the myth about the sun, but anythin' you think Safrin might like." Which is beyond you, never having met the herald, but maybe she knows better. "Have you ever met her? Or the other heralds? I only talked to Frey so far."
