She does not blame the Sun God for his mistake, does not allow herself to condemn him despite the bitterness that stings her eyes. Perhaps Gods don’t have to be perfect, perhaps Gods are capable of mistakes just as much as the mortal beings they protect. It is only the promise of her parents, their voices of comfort echoing from that place between wakefulness and dreams, that keeps her from abandoning the cluster of islands, of fleeing before she would have to see it. As much as their hate hurts her, she wants to help them.
With various herbs and sprigs of healing entwined with the seaweed and shells in her hair—preparation she had taken in her exploration of the forested islands—Tiamat wanders slowly through the trees, hovering over the large gathering as they wait for their war. When it finally comes—when the soft silence is shattered by the roars of rage, when boulders and threats are cast—the ocean mare nearly crumbles beneath the weight of her dismay, a plea dying on her lips.
She cannot stop it—but she cannot do what she is able (help, heal, mend) if she loses herself now. She cannot fail them. Mustering up the last frayed threads of her courage, Tiamat pulls herself together enough to catch sight of her bearings, hoping to dodge lines of friendly fire as she skirts to the sidelines. It doesn’t take long for things to descend into chaos as it had before. The masses come to congregate against the enemy, and while she grieves their battle, she is proud of their might.
However, amidst the bustling and warring of bodies, she recognizes a small figure perched above the commotion—Galiel, and she shouts out her encouragement. Tiamat smiles, but her panic for her safety is too overwhelming and rushes her to the filly’s side. “Your efforts are better served here, little one, where you cannot be hurt; please, don’t try to leap into the fight,” her concern is earnest and nothing but genuine, her features softening, “They need your moral support.” Bumping the filly’s cheek softly, almost playfully, she returns her attention to the battlefield, muscles poised and ready to rush to someone’s aid should they need her.
notes; TEAM EARTH GOD (unofficially)
Recognizing @Galiel she rushes to the filly's side and encourages her to stay on the sidelines, and then searches the battlefield for anyone who might need her help.
“Speech.”
at the most beautiful place under the sun.
magic & force are permitted.