A desert? Nana's face softens with something like concerned amusement. Then this is a strange place to find yourself, indeed,
she tells him, her tail giving a slow swish. A little bit of an improvement, maybe. I've heard deserts are hot.
And Nana, perhaps stereotypically given her appearance and surname, loves the snow.
The kind way he responds to her apology takes her by surprise and for a brief moment she's unable to conjure words to respond. There's even a small amount of warmth that comes to her face, foreign in nature, when he even compliments her. The priestess is unused to it, especially after so many months of her own internal strife, and so while it may have simply been flattery, Nana cannot help the way she blushes.
You're very kind,
she deflects gently, and is just about to respond to his final question when the sound of something being dropped catches her attention.
The sight of Ruito is always welcome, the warmth of her affection surging from within her ribs a familiar thing, but Nana quickly reads the aggression in his posture. Her mind scrambles briefly and she realizes it must be her proximity to Falkren that has set him off.
Periwinkle eyes widen and Nana springs up with a speed she is no longer used to moving at with the weight of pregnancy keeping her down. She moves to place herself between the two, in spite of the mild flutter of fear that strikes her upon seeing how furious he looks.
Ruito, stop! I'm fine, everything is fine,
she asserts, voice a bit shriller than usual. Nana desperately hopes to avoid a fight, if she can manage - there is no need for it, and what a disaster it would be to see her friend harm himself and an innocent stranger, at that!