Oddities and the odd were Imonada's obsession. Isopia was doomed from the very beginning, her aloofness the other girl's intrigue...

She was loathe to interrupt the deep, critical thoughts of another, mired in their work so, engulfing themselves in the process while their ruminating mind obsessively tore apart conversations and events. She did not need to peek inside Isopia's skull to know the other raven was throwing herself into the construction, so skillfully focused, her passion laid bare for those with the ability to see it for what it truly is. This alone, what she could see, was as equally fascinating as the artful result such deep concentrations wrought. What was driving this god-child? What was she mulling over as she poured her lifeblood into this new creation? Imonada had to know; but she was tactful, all things considered, and a proper segue was in order. All things in good time.

She waited longer for a decent moment to show her hand, as inconsequential as before. There was something decidedly delicate about this situation and the realization only made it more so. Isopia had sent a clear message about her desire for others at the moment, secluding herself away, burying herself in labor. It was a difficult boundary to dance upon; leave her be or interact? But... if she was cast away, she would honor it, so was there any major harm in probing a bit before coming to that end?

When Isopia sets a glow to the structure that radiates such an exquisite warmth --even in the Tallsun heat, it was superseded by a dizzying layer soaked in magic that was felt deeper than the breath of fire that stoked across her skin-- before standing back to survey her product, Imonada seizes the opportunity to make herself known.

"Hello," the tiny black pegasus offers, moving out of her shrouded domain and further into Isopia's; she stands away, facing the masked raven, affording the other mare a respectful amount of room even while she no longer remains at an impersonal, observant, detached distance. "You've much enviable skill." With a lazy flick of her gossamer tail, she takes a good long look at the hut with keen attention; she may not know a lick of the trade, but she feigns it well. "I was watching you for awhile, as creepy as that sounds..." A self-depreciating chuckle chuffs its way out from her nostrils. She was gifted in her own way, but for all the magnitude of capable feats, awkwardness often came hand in hand; ingrained so deeply that even a good, heady buzz couldn't muffle it. "There is something about those who can create, to make real their imaginings... That bridge, I do not have it. You do, though. I'm Imonada."