[The movement helps, as Link has found; it's hard to be self-conscious about conversation or dancing when you're forced to focus on both at the same time. It may not be the most interesting style of dance --there are plenty of "country dances" in regions of Hyrule that are far more spirited-- but it's meant to be simple. In a way, Link is grateful for that...dancing has never been something for which he had a particular affinity. Maybe when he was young, but certainly not since being chosen by the Master Sword.
His partner's eyes on him call forth a feeling of knowing that he finds a little surprising. In his travels, Link has become used to a measure of anonymity not granted in his life before the Calamity...a measure he was truly grateful to have, as he struggled to find his identity amidst his lack of memories. The masks serve a similar purpose, and here, now, her gaze seems to cut through it, as if she can see who he really is beneath it. As though she knows how he is, if not who he is. It's not unnerving, exactly, but it is surprising, and for a moment, he has to focus much more intently on the dance to avoid a misstep. It's strange, really, the things that can trip you up if you aren't expecting them.
Nonetheless, he finds her words somewhat relatable. Exciting and strange...he can understand that, and nods in agreement, smiling faintly.
Here, too, he thinks cautiously about his words...and when she continues, he becomes even more glad that he held his thoughts. He has the impression that she's trusting him with something, perhaps a memory that is seldom shared. After a beat, he responds,]
... Alone?
[That is something he can understand, in ways; his time in the wild has been spent alone, for the most part, and while it can be nice to have the quiet...well, it does make for long, lonely nights. If she wants to speak more about it, he'd like to listen, but he keeps his tone gentle, in case she's not so eager to share.]
[ At the echo of her own word, there's a flicker of something hesitant in Naminé's expression. She's been careless already, she realizes, to admit to even that much. Although she's spent the night mostly unaffected by her newfound anonymity, here it is that she's made her first real misstep, and yet--
And yet there's a certain appeal in voicing what she mightn't otherwise - in being known, just a little bit, in ways her life has rarely allowed for. The past is an ugly thing, and so Naminé typically holds it safe and quiet in the depths of her mind, where it can harm nobody but her. This stranger, though... he has no cause to be troubled by it, does he? He's got no obligation or reason to care, like family or a friend might. (Except - he seems the sort to do so anyway, considering how he inquired in the first place.) She doesn't mean to burden him for his kindness, but, she decides finally, perhaps she can at least assuage his curiosity.
At some point, her gaze has fallen toward their feet again, not out of necessity but out of an inability to meet Link's. When she draws them up, she offers him along with their attention the barest, most apologetic of smiles, as if to lighten the answer before she ever speaks it. ]
You could say... that my existence has been unusual from the start. [ In so many more ways than one. ] When I was younger, I never went to school, and making friends just wasn't possible for me. In fact, it wasn't until I came to this world that I really started to live my own life.
[ Now, finally, she can't hold that wan smile any longer. Mouth pursing, Naminé considers him a moment, then shakes her head, bowing it slightly. ]
But that's-- a very long and complicated story.
[ Her tone, eager to dismiss it as she sounds, suggests that she rather hopes he'll assume it to be a boring one. ]
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His partner's eyes on him call forth a feeling of knowing that he finds a little surprising. In his travels, Link has become used to a measure of anonymity not granted in his life before the Calamity...a measure he was truly grateful to have, as he struggled to find his identity amidst his lack of memories. The masks serve a similar purpose, and here, now, her gaze seems to cut through it, as if she can see who he really is beneath it. As though she knows how he is, if not who he is. It's not unnerving, exactly, but it is surprising, and for a moment, he has to focus much more intently on the dance to avoid a misstep. It's strange, really, the things that can trip you up if you aren't expecting them.
Nonetheless, he finds her words somewhat relatable. Exciting and strange...he can understand that, and nods in agreement, smiling faintly.
Here, too, he thinks cautiously about his words...and when she continues, he becomes even more glad that he held his thoughts. He has the impression that she's trusting him with something, perhaps a memory that is seldom shared. After a beat, he responds,]
... Alone?
[That is something he can understand, in ways; his time in the wild has been spent alone, for the most part, and while it can be nice to have the quiet...well, it does make for long, lonely nights. If she wants to speak more about it, he'd like to listen, but he keeps his tone gentle, in case she's not so eager to share.]
no subject
And yet there's a certain appeal in voicing what she mightn't otherwise - in being known, just a little bit, in ways her life has rarely allowed for. The past is an ugly thing, and so Naminé typically holds it safe and quiet in the depths of her mind, where it can harm nobody but her. This stranger, though... he has no cause to be troubled by it, does he? He's got no obligation or reason to care, like family or a friend might. (Except - he seems the sort to do so anyway, considering how he inquired in the first place.) She doesn't mean to burden him for his kindness, but, she decides finally, perhaps she can at least assuage his curiosity.
At some point, her gaze has fallen toward their feet again, not out of necessity but out of an inability to meet Link's. When she draws them up, she offers him along with their attention the barest, most apologetic of smiles, as if to lighten the answer before she ever speaks it. ]
You could say... that my existence has been unusual from the start. [ In so many more ways than one. ] When I was younger, I never went to school, and making friends just wasn't possible for me. In fact, it wasn't until I came to this world that I really started to live my own life.
[ Now, finally, she can't hold that wan smile any longer. Mouth pursing, Naminé considers him a moment, then shakes her head, bowing it slightly. ]
But that's-- a very long and complicated story.
[ Her tone, eager to dismiss it as she sounds, suggests that she rather hopes he'll assume it to be a boring one. ]