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A laugh, almost painfully sarcastic in nature, burst from the witch at his assessment. There had been a lot to catch up on, but she was no where near keeping a level head about the matter. For now she was fine, but where was Sal when she had broken down in front of Hel just a few days ago? Or every time she fretted enough that her hands shook so that she flapped them constantly or hid them behind or back so no one would notice? What about now? What about how she had practically run away from everything just to talk to him in hope he could lend her some of his endless pool of serenity?
Things would be vastly more simplistic and easy to handle if she could manage to keep a level head.
"Not as such, I am afraid. I worry constantly..." Enough that a crease had formed between her brows, hidden by her bangs. "But I appreciate the sentiment all the same." Because compliments, while perhaps not always hard to come by, were still gladly and gleefully, nearly greedily, taken. The little hug was good too, made her feel much less alone. After all, as bad as they were, Sal was still there. And that was a very important something.

Interested in hearing what he thought about the Horsewoman, it was far more interesting that Sal had once been in love! And a long time ago! While that should normally have been a topic of debate, Sal never indulged in such fanciful stories so the witch bought his words completely. They were undoubtedly truth, gospel truth! Papa Sal would never lie to Belladonna.
So, her own worries momentarily forgotten in the face of actually asking Sal some very important questions about his love life, the witch whirled to face him with her biggest, sparkliest eyes.
"And what were they like? Oh, I bet they were horribly energetic to counteract how terribly calm you are all the time! And very, very short! Did you have to pick them up to kiss? I bet you are absolutely, sickeningly romantic!" This was probably a very, very bad idea. Somewhere in the witch's head a bell was ringing, telling her of the dangers her curiosity posed. But the only thing that triumphed over that warning was the phrase 'satisfaction brought it back'. Insatiable curiosity always paid out most handsomely at the end.
"I am certain they were very beautiful too..."

Not once did the witch ever stop to actually consider that perhaps she should have not poked and prodded and demanded answers when the outcome was most likely going to be sad. Since she had put aside her own past heartaches, Belladonna had forgotten that others had not done the same. Maybe if she had remembered, then maybe she would not have watched her dearest Horseman's descent into sadness. Sometimes it was hard to remember that curiosity did not always result in satisfaction, at least not pure satisfaction. So it was today.
The witch listened with hands clasped under her chin, positively aglow to hear Sal's tale of romance. When he began to describe the mare the witch hurried to imagine her, pink eyes rolling up a little to consider what color hair she might have (if any at all!) and color eyes she would have. Would she dress extravagantly like Sal, or minimalist because of the desert heat? These were all questions the witch wanted to ask next, but they stilled on her tongue when Sal mentioned he had not kissed his love.
For whatever reason, Belladonna had failed to also consider that maybe Sal had never honestly had a true romance with his mare, for he was such a theatrical man that it only seemed plausible. Especially when he so freely spoke his mind, when his emotions could so easily be on the surface. But, at the same time, the witch knew he liked to play light but kept his darkness in close. And it wasn't until the horseman admitted he would never have the chance to tell his mare of his love that the witch let her hands slowly drop to her lap, eyebrows knitted in melancholy concern.

"I...I..." But that was wrong. Everything had been about the witch's own curiosities, about her desire to know when she should have thought of Sal first. "You are... Very strong." Belladonna amended with a soft look, one hand gently reaching out to rest against his arm. "I am deeply sorry for your loss... But I am glad that you knew her. She seems like an absolutely wonderful person..." That wouldn't bring her back, but the witch could not let this sad moment turn forever sad. "I wish I could have met her. I am sure she would be very happy to see you doing so well."
A lump had formed in the ghoul's throat that she tried to swallow, but found it stuck. Nothing would make this better, but not trying felt worse. A moment of uncomfortable silence followed her words and she sighed. She had come here to cheer herself up and had done a rotten job of it.

"Do you think... You will speak your mind from now on, too?"