Dragoncrest Cliffs Anglerfish

He looked ready to bolt, a colt still trying to decide whether or not to trust the one on the other end of the lead rope. She was still and quiet, and held him fast in her gaze. If he ran now, he'd be a coward for not being able to say one simple word to her. Her gaze narrowed slightly at the shortening of her name. What should have been affectionate now seemed somewhat lazy, but she couldn't be convinced that she needed to correct him. Despite how she might have felt about him, she did like that he had a nickname for her. 

He struggled, which rubbed salt in the wound. What she wanted was so simple, she thought, but it seemed almost impossible for him to grasp. He'd come to tell her that thought he should be sorry, but that he wasn't actually sorry, simply because he didn't know why he should be. At least he wouldn't apologize if he didn't mean it, but it would have meant more to her if he did.

He was a coward, she thought. But she couldn't be certain if he was more frightened of her outburst, of of his own feelings.  

"If you are not sorry, den I do not forgive you." She stated quietly. She wasn't going to ask him. She shouldn't have to. She hadn't had to explain herself to Quennell in order to validate her feelings.