No dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love.

Once returning again to the Basin, the blue mare had departed for the Haruspex’s cave as soon as she had been able. Cloven hooves and slender legs carry her swiftly forward, her stride rushing like the waves of her father as she gallops across the mountainous valley, still frosted in places with the white of winter. The thickness of her mane and tail dance behind her, the rustling and chiming of the adornments in her hair the only sounds to accompany the panting of her breaths, silent as the night has become. Dusk is quickly bleeding into night, the final rays of the sun falling behind the precipices of the mountains, leaving the twinkling lights of her sister stars freedom to come out and play.
 
But she focuses on her task, casting them only a glance as she pushes forward. When she circles around the moist banks of her brother lake, her footsteps thudding softly against the thawing earth and echoing across its glassy surface, Tiamat finally comes within sight of the Haruspex’s cave. At first glance, the cave appears to be empty—no figure stands in its entrance, no fire glowing to light the darkness that gapes within, only the seemingly lone shadow of solitude rests within the mountain den. Her heart sinks into the tight pits of her stomach, fearing the worst, and her uncertainties rise unbidden to plague the buoyancy of her soul.
 
What—what if it hadn’t been a dream?
 
What if it had all been real? What if it actually happened?
 
Her gait stumbles, physically staggering with the possibility as the weight of the pain, guilt, and shame reach with dagger-like claws to rest their heavy burdens across her shoulders. “No,” the young mare chokes out, her breath gasping and suddenly labored as her lungs constrict and her heart cries out for it not to be so. It just couldn’t have happened—it just couldn’t have.
 
It is with weighted steps that she climbs over the stone and closer to the cave’s entrance, her labored breaths pooling in white wisps around her nostrils, and she doesn’t feel the bite of winter’s lingering breath as it nips at her satin skin. The black mouth of the cave grows wider, ominous—her heartbeat thrums in her ears, echoing and throbbing like a drum beating its march. What waits for her there? Will it be nothing? She feels cold inside, cold not from the night, but from the dread that builds with each step and the horror that lies in wait to assault her with its devastating woes (not unlike a predator waiting to spring upon its prey).
 
Tiamat hesitates before stepping inside, her slender sides heaving with a final, trembling breath before she allows the gaping darkness to swallow her.
 
It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness without the aid of dusk’s waning light, but before she truly comprehends what she sees, she sees him. A painted figure in the shadows. “Ashamin,” the blue mare breaths his name somewhere between a sigh of relief and the choking gasp of her emotions, a shuddering breath across her tongue. Her eyes tell her that he is here, that he is all right, that he is unharmed—as far as the night will allow her to see—but that is not enough. It couldn’t possibly be enough.
 
Her muscles don’t move at first, and they are weak when they do, but still she staggers closer to him. Before long she is reaching, pressing her lips to his cheek and breathing in his scent, the musky familiarity and heat that confirms that he is real. Suddenly the tightness of her chest and weight on her back are gone, chased away by his presence, his life, and in their wake she feels tears spring to her eyes. “Ashamin! You’re alive! Oh—it wasn’t real,” her breaths grow ragged with sobs of release, her body falling to his chest and she wraps her neck against his, her muzzle hanging across his withers, wanting to feel the truth and joy that each touch brings. “It wasn’t real,” she cries to herself, trembling with the overwhelming relief of the words.


notes; -cuddles Ashamin- I think they should work out the things between them first, but then open it up if you'd like or if anyone's interested!
“Speech.”