Ophelia pauses from where she was about to walk, hearing a new voice. Two people in one day, totally a recorded for her. She turns back around, seeing a boy now. She observes him carefully, the red tint on his face isn’t sunburn, it looked like the wind had blown to harshly against it, but there wasn’t much wind today, he must have been doing something strenuous, like running prehaps? She didn’t know, maybe it didn’t matter. “Well it’s alright…” she says lightly, her voice similar to that of golden honey, the accent of her origin ever present. 

She notices Darias light blush, raising an eyebrow in confusion at it but saying nothing, looking back to the boy, “And you are…?”