"I wasn't always. I still..." With so many things, she was quieter. But her feelings always felt tangled and in the open for people to stare at, especially after the Black Wolf. But Kell knew more about her than almost everyone else - and in some ways, he knew her better than all of the others, Archer included.

He drew hardened pressure against her wrist and her eyes widened, watching, entranced for the moment by the flash of white teeth, as if she anticipated he'd tear into her flesh and she'd see pearl blood. The mark only briefly stung...but she liked it that way. "I think-- I think I'm broken, sometimes. That I've been broken for so long that I don't know how else to be." That she'd died once before on a broken tower, covered in blood, in the shadow of a dragon and no longer knew how to be a person any longer. Neria's countenance was thoughtful, strangely, and not dismayed. Her other hand slid through his hair, marveling at its softness. She turned her gaze towards his.

"My heart runs away with me on the battlefield. Anything could happen. The world narrows. I stop thinking about...about tomorrow, about the next conversation. I'm right there in the battle, all of me - my soul, my heart, my thoughts - and nothing is more important than survival. Than taking care of what's mine." She smiled lopsidedly. "All of me feels awake. The rest of the time, I feel as if some part of me is cold and heavy and...dead."

She shifts just a little bit, enough so she can gently rub the pads of her fingers over his scalp - not scratching so much as offering slow friction, as she might towards a cat. "What about you, Kell? What do you like?"