She watches his face with childlike curiosity, hardly phased by the solemn look upon his face. She tilts her head then with that comment, smiling. "Well, if you are asking me, I say they are the best," Maeve says in response, and there is something almost...like an edge in that voice, as if she were almost mimicking Frost in some way in this moment. She learns quickly it would seem.

While Frost struggles with speaking with children, Maeve has a near gift to converse with anyone. Perhaps it is just the innocence of a child, maybe it is in her very blood as a fae to be graceful in her movements as well as her speaking. She meets his violet eyes with her own for a moment before casting them away. He was a strange man, but she cannot deny the desire of her curiosities for long. "What would you call it then?" She asks, a child of a million questions it would seem. She hardly understands being submissive, alpha no more than a simple title, no different than Mr. and Mrs. After all, Tetradore was an alpha, and he hardly presented himself to Maeve in anyway that would make Maeve cower. Why should Frost be any different? He seemed more serious than her panther friend, but Maeve, is already convinced if he could have some fun he would probably lighten right up. And maybe that frown, would turn into something different altogether.

Maeve holds his hand in a strong grip (for a little thing) before letting go. She remembers being in a police station when she had been younger, waiting for her social worker to come and get her. One of the officers had shaken her hand, telling the small child she needed a strong handshake, first impressions were everything. It would seem the lesson carried over even now.

Maeve continues to giggle about the comment about Frost being a bridge troll. "I don't think he has enough warts...or big enough feet," she says, casting those violet eyes towards the horse. Clearly, Maeve is not yet old enough to understand the joke of large feet Maeve turns to Nadya at this point, cupping her hands in an attempt to keep her voice low. "He is kinda grumpy like one though," she says, hardly able then to suppress a giggle that finds her. But Maeve is hardly aware of Nadya and tetra's history, content with her relationship with each of them individually, and the fae child hardly being one to pry in such serious situations.

She squints her eyes at the man as he speaks, only to cut off short. But her attention is then quickly diverted to Nadya as she too speaks. "I've done it before," Maeve says assuredly and in much too casual of a voice and manner for it to be entirely normal. She had been considered a runner when she had been in foster care, in fact, she had run all the way to Sacrosanct. "The West? You mean the Ark?" She asks then, the boat that she so frequently visited. Of course, she was always gone before any of the fighting started, but she often spent weekend afternoons there, entirely content to follow Mira around, cast shy glances in Tetra's direction, and play games with Tobi.

But it is when the conversation continues with Andras that Maeve grows slightly solemn. It was true that she had been staying with Andras, but he was hardly around, often times his maid picking her up or taking her places. And, in the end, Maeve would not be staying with him forever. At the current time, the Ark felt more like a home than the apartment downtown. "He is not around a lot," she says with a shrug and a twitch of her lip on only one side. "I don't know if he wants kids," she says, once more a shrug, before turning her attention to the dance studio, clearly eager to get started.

She begins walking over to the classroom, following Nadya's instructions to go and stretch before the class gets started. But she stops for a moment, turning around to look back at Frost, the man with those features that were so similar to her own. "Alpha Frost," she says, a small smile on her face. "You're a funny man," she says simply before slipping inside the door and eagerly joining the other children to stretch on the floor.

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