Another made their presence known in a gentle manner, a soft utterance of breath that drew Godiva’s stance to shift from it’s lackluster path to the water’s edge. Gilt hooves shuffled with indolent precision to turn her figure aside, broad hindquarters swung aside to angle over towards the other, the inherently warm glow of her gaze softening, cooled by the gentler wrinkling around rosy eyes, welcoming and tranquil; the euphoria of flight was quieted in her heart. Perhaps it was the other’s lack of wing that subdued her so – though a stranger to recognizing such emotion, and far less so one to visibly display it’s registry, the dame regarded such a loss as a horrific thing.

It was a curse that she would wish upon no creature that had experienced the wild and inane splendor of hurtling through burning skies and winds glazed with frost; though lukewarm in temperament and calculating in manner, she was not unkind. The severing of such limbs was either a punishment or among the most wicked of sins; she knew not which applied for the grey mare. Nevertheless, it made her ache to witness it in those milliseconds before control returned with practiced artistry. Blush pink lips pursed lightly for a mere moment before the expression shifted to one more tender, the face presented phased into her unique manner of a smile – smooth and thin lipped, with eyes soft up above. Her chin dipped modestly with the greeting, and with that simple gesture, her body eased into movement to near the other.

“Indeed. Though some light is present even at eventide, I do often still desire something more - this time provides a clarity that no other seems able to lend.” Her native old english was only kept from her choice of phrasing, the sing-song fall of the archaic tongue otherwise heavy in every lilt and punctuation of each tame utterance - but the words came flawlessly smooth, for she spoke the honest truth. The convergence of hush and songsbird's cry, the crisp air pulled into her lungs; it was a pleasure that she had enjoyed before even a fledgling.

She paused at a comfortable distance from the other - less than a yard easily between each velvet muzzle - the direction of her gaze wavering only to swerve to the creature whose details had become more pronounced with proximity – the urge to question was suppressed though, in light of the rituals of introduction she had yet to complete. "Though having dwelt here for moon, I have come to know this land well, but many faces are still a mystery to me - certainly my own is, to many others. I am Godiva."