“Hello” she chirps back, reminding herself of a bird. Yet also reminded of one due to the strange awe of this woman's visage. Feathers of vivid turquoise, gold etchings... It was like looking at a lovely work of art. It was because of this that she was drawn in. “forgive me; I have not seen the likes of one such as yourself before.”
Willoughby realized she had been staring, and she blinks in quiet shame. No blush comes to her cheeks; it is not attraction but curiosity. Her head tilts to the side, regarding the young woman. “I've seen lots of winged beasts, but not one sprouting feathers over their body” she giggles softly, charmed by the other's appearance “but oh! I am probably embarrassing you... I shall stop.”
“she speaks”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
