H
e knows the sky is full of stars. He knows some of them by name. When the woman proclaims she had once been a star, he lifts his head to stare neutrally at her. His gaze is not condescending or questioning; he merely waits for her to form her words before any emotion is weighed in. He quietly ponders her words. "A star" Benedict repeats, mulling the origin over. He also knows any questions regarding her words would probably not be understood by Veil. He keeps them to himself. "yes, you look like a star. A galaxy."He hopes that is enough for her. It stood to reason why she could not speak well, and why she looked like a nebula. He did not reject such a notion; his upbringing had been very... limited, compared to the equines of Novus. He sported not even wings. He was plain. Simple. But he was also not vain. "I make" he begins again at her question, roaming a bit away where he had rested his claymore against jutting rocks. He approaches it now, tapping his right hoof against the steel "item" but also "weapon." It was what it was. 'Armor' was probably less complicated.
But he had no armor to show her for example. He spots her necklace, nodding to it. "Jewelry." He made a plethora of things, but he was also very new at it still. Not a master in any regard.
