The blue mare does not at first notice the arrival of others. She keeps her body pressing close to the large creature, sharing what warmth she has, all she can give with no magic and no strength. Tiamat will not give up—she can’t, she must try with all the means that she has available to her. It is only when she hears Lena’s voice—as soft, sweet, gentle, and nurturing as always, the voice who had led her home so long ago—pierces through her awareness and brings pale eyes, blinking through long lashes, glancing to the familiar brown mare. “Oh Lena!” The unicorn breathes, her spirits beginning to lift again to their usual buoyancy. She almost feels like crying with the relief of the Mender’s aid.
“Thank you, mama!” She whispers breathlessly, closing her eyes in a long blink as she fights to control the emotions that swell in her breast. There is still much to be done.
Although there is still not much else she can do other than stay at the stripe hunter’s side, the tightness of her chest—the fear, the terror of being so helpless in the wake of someone so wounded—has released itself, and she no longer feels powerlessly lost. Tiamat breathes deeply, her white eyes following Imogen as the white fox-creature obeys her bonded and sets a fire alight, the glow warm and soft in the midst of the blizzard outside. It is from this blustery whiteness that another figure appears. Tiamat doesn’t know the mare’s name, but she recognizes her from within the Basin.
A friendly smile is given to the antlered stranger—a gesture that is far more fleeting and distracted than it would be in other circumstances—before the blue mare returns her focus to the creature of their attention. The gentle melodies of Lena’s medicinal songs resonate through the wintry air, mingling with the gentle murmuring of the other two until their voices swell and echo against the cavern’s stony walls. Tiamat feels her heart quickening, anticipation and worry still shadowing her mind, but there is hope—a light of hope that wills her forward, lifting her soul in the spirit of camaraderie with her fellow herd mates as they work together. This—this is what she has always wanted.
Time seems to melt and mold into itself. Seconds, minutes, days, weeks—Tiamat is not sure how much time passes before their efforts stir movement from the great beast. Pressing against its hairy side, she feels its mighty breath first, a rumbling of air, lungs, and bone that rattles against her body, her eyes widening in expectation as her gaze snaps to the tiger’s face. Only when she feels the hunter prepare to rise to its shaky, thick legs does the blue mare step back to give her enough room.
It is now when the creature has risen does the unicorn notice how ancient she looks—like she has lived through centuries, weathered and beaten by the incessant, unstoppable passing of time. Tiamat hovers close to the creature’s side, fearing that her trembling body might betray her and collapse again (not that Tiamat would be much help in comparison to her large bulk, but perhaps it is instinct that guides the blue mare closer to the matted, weathered body). The tiger’s question comes heavily, her gaze somehow intense in its weariness, omniscient and wise in its impression. The mare can’t help but think how, then, did such a primeval creature become so vulnerable?
Lena’s answer pulls Tiamat from her reverie—so simplistic, capturing the truth so humbly, that all the ocean mare can do is give a nod in agreement, a friendly smile softening her lips. The antlered mare elaborates, and Tiamat nods as well, her white eyes dropping to the cave’s stony floor before rising slowly to meet the gaze of the tiger. “Or at least do what you could,” she adds, more for herself than anyone else, her voice much meeker than usual. Only moments ago—minutes? Hours? Days?—she had thought she would lose this poor beast simply because of her inability to do anything. She doesn’t have the means or knowledge to do great things yet—healing things—and she prays that she will never experience such a tragedy of truly being so lost and helpless.
Her chest knotting uncomfortably with these terrors, Tiamat flicks her plumed leonine tail out behind her, shifting her weight and trailing her eyes to stare at cloven hooves for a moment. When she glances back up, her eyes catch something—light, reflecting from the warmth of the fire’s glow. Tilting her head curiously, she seeks the tiger’s gaze. “What—what is that?” She gestures to the locket around its neck. Really she should have held her tongue, or at least waited, but the question had bubbled from her lips before she could reign it in. Tilting her ears back in embarrassment even though her eyes are bright with curiosity, she stares up at the beast.
notes; SO sorry for the horrific wait! x__x
“Speech.”
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