The young girl, now resembling more of a preteen than she had when she'd first arrived at the Pantheon, bristled at being addressed as an urchin. Granted, it might have been true at one time, but after all she'd been through recently, she certainly didn't feel like one any more. She had Arc to take care of her, didn't she? He would never leave her, like her parents had. NEVER!
Tears evaporated before her rising indignance, burning like a banked fire within her. Her chin rose and she jutted her jaw just slightly, taking a more defiant stance. "My tears are my own, thank you very much. Mine and Arctang's, if he chooses to share them." Mentally she 'glanced' at him, to find his presence there and waiting for her. She welcomed him back to join with her, to boost her claim, to make her feel safe again. "He protects me, and I protect him." Her hand moved to the bandaged shoulder, which she now fiercely ripped at, tearing the cloth away so that the stone could be seen. It reflected the lights from the lava pits, gleaming brigthly in neon turqouise glory.
She wasn't about to admit to this stranger that Arctang himself had been the reason for her tears. With adolescent mercurial emotionalism, she now was fiercely proud of being chosen by the god of Numbers. Though if she'd stopped to think about it, she wasn't entirely sure how numbers could have helped her stand against trouble. But she knew he was a god, so surely he could have done something.
Arc was surprised when Rairne reached for him, sought his presence and wanted him with her. He surged more than willingly to mix himself with her, suddenly wondering how much this might be like what it would feel like to be reborn within her. For now, he brushed that thought aside, instead focusing on bolstering his host and giving her confidence. After all, she was right to be proud! So many mortals, but so few would be called to be vessels for the rebirth of the gods! She was indeed special, and should stand confidently before all. He silently showed her that he approved, idly tracing fractal patterns within the darkness of her mind, bursts of color and pattern, not realizing it could be distracting to the young thing.