[ Although she meets his stare with a one in kind that conveys uncertainty, even shyness, Naminé doesn't turn her gaze away. Neither, in fact, does she look afraid. There's not a trace of it in her expression as her eyes switch curiously between his, more concerned than anything else. You'd figure he'd told her he just had a problem with chronic throat pain, rather than that he could make a person's head explode with the wrong - right - words.
But it's awfully hard to tell what Toge's thinking. She doesn't know him well enough, for one thing, and the verbal barrier doesn't help either. Once she's said her peace herself, Naminé searches his expression for understanding. He seems to be considering all that she's said, so perhaps she ought to redouble her efforts to explain her reasoning in order to help him along. ]
... Maybe it's better if I show you.
[ The girl comes to this conclusion presently, as she watches him tilt his head. She hesitates a beat while she tries to imagine a proper demonstration, but it doesn't actually take long; it could be that this has been on her mind for a little while already. Setting aside her basket on the ground, Naminé straightens again to lift both hands into a careful, mirrored gesture, her palms facing each other. ]
You know what it's like to be cold, don't you? [ There's been plenty of chill in the air lately, after all, even if he doesn't come from a cold place. ] Maybe - when someone says the word cold, there's a sensation that you think of. But if you try to describe it to a person who's never felt it for themselves, they won't really understand what it means.
[ Like emotion and the memory of emotion not being the same thing. Starting to frown, Naminé carefully diverts that train of thought as her fingers splay a little wider, concentration settling into her expression to smooth it over. There's a weird sort of feeling that's starting to fill the air, a peculiar stillness that slowly grows cooler. ]
Because there are some things you just can't express in words. Some memories aren't that simple, no matter how strong they are. So-- you have to find another way to help them feel what you felt. And in a place like this, it's not so hard. This world... seems to want to connect with us. Our thoughts, our memories, our-- emotions.
[ The coolness grows gradually more palpable, a faint chill that begins to gather inward toward her small, waiting hands. ]
I remember... there was a time when I was trapped all alone because of a snowstorm. The snow was so fierce and fell so quickly that, overnight, it almost buried the cabin that I was staying in. The door was too heavy to open, and I couldn't see through the windows, either. Everything was covered in it. But the cold...
[ -- Is ever more tangible as she speaks, frost starting to form in the faintly visible currents of air that drift around and between her fingers, gathering and dispersing in trails that look almost like steam. ]
... Seeped in through the walls. I burned all the firewood I had to try to keep it out, but it didn't work. No matter what I did, it wasn't enough. And the longer it went on, the more it felt like I'd never be warm again. Like-- the cold was in my bones, and I'd never be able to get rid of it.
[ The frigid air cracks and pops as it starts to take more solid form, small chunks of ice coalescing in the space surrounded by her hands. ]
So I think of that place - of that memory. And then--
[ Her palms pull apart slightly, the Blizzard spell finally reaching completion with a more distinct crystal of frost that hovers in place. Not a large one, but enough to serve as an example. ]
I let this world feel it, too.
[ But then, Naminé has always been able to bend the world around her - dream-based or not - to her will in varying degrees. Her awareness of her own magical capabilities is vague at times, yet she can at least recognize that it may not work quite the same way for everyone; so she falters, looks up from her spell to regard Toge across it, and finally lets her hands fall. The ice dissipates, breaking back apart into chilly air that lingers around them even as it spreads out. There's a beat of somewhat self-conscious silence, and then she asks, ]
no subject
But it's awfully hard to tell what Toge's thinking. She doesn't know him well enough, for one thing, and the verbal barrier doesn't help either. Once she's said her peace herself, Naminé searches his expression for understanding. He seems to be considering all that she's said, so perhaps she ought to redouble her efforts to explain her reasoning in order to help him along. ]
... Maybe it's better if I show you.
[ The girl comes to this conclusion presently, as she watches him tilt his head. She hesitates a beat while she tries to imagine a proper demonstration, but it doesn't actually take long; it could be that this has been on her mind for a little while already. Setting aside her basket on the ground, Naminé straightens again to lift both hands into a careful, mirrored gesture, her palms facing each other. ]
You know what it's like to be cold, don't you? [ There's been plenty of chill in the air lately, after all, even if he doesn't come from a cold place. ] Maybe - when someone says the word cold, there's a sensation that you think of. But if you try to describe it to a person who's never felt it for themselves, they won't really understand what it means.
[ Like emotion and the memory of emotion not being the same thing. Starting to frown, Naminé carefully diverts that train of thought as her fingers splay a little wider, concentration settling into her expression to smooth it over. There's a weird sort of feeling that's starting to fill the air, a peculiar stillness that slowly grows cooler. ]
Because there are some things you just can't express in words. Some memories aren't that simple, no matter how strong they are. So-- you have to find another way to help them feel what you felt. And in a place like this, it's not so hard. This world... seems to want to connect with us. Our thoughts, our memories, our-- emotions.
[ The coolness grows gradually more palpable, a faint chill that begins to gather inward toward her small, waiting hands. ]
I remember... there was a time when I was trapped all alone because of a snowstorm. The snow was so fierce and fell so quickly that, overnight, it almost buried the cabin that I was staying in. The door was too heavy to open, and I couldn't see through the windows, either. Everything was covered in it. But the cold...
[ -- Is ever more tangible as she speaks, frost starting to form in the faintly visible currents of air that drift around and between her fingers, gathering and dispersing in trails that look almost like steam. ]
... Seeped in through the walls. I burned all the firewood I had to try to keep it out, but it didn't work. No matter what I did, it wasn't enough. And the longer it went on, the more it felt like I'd never be warm again. Like-- the cold was in my bones, and I'd never be able to get rid of it.
[ The frigid air cracks and pops as it starts to take more solid form, small chunks of ice coalescing in the space surrounded by her hands. ]
So I think of that place - of that memory. And then--
[ Her palms pull apart slightly, the Blizzard spell finally reaching completion with a more distinct crystal of frost that hovers in place. Not a large one, but enough to serve as an example. ]
I let this world feel it, too.
[ But then, Naminé has always been able to bend the world around her - dream-based or not - to her will in varying degrees. Her awareness of her own magical capabilities is vague at times, yet she can at least recognize that it may not work quite the same way for everyone; so she falters, looks up from her spell to regard Toge across it, and finally lets her hands fall. The ice dissipates, breaking back apart into chilly air that lingers around them even as it spreads out. There's a beat of somewhat self-conscious silence, and then she asks, ]
Does... that make sense?