Look to love, you may dream—hope is home, and the heart is free.

The mare’s smile brightens when the dark chocolate stallion confirms her assumptions, labeling himself as Fen’Harel and returning her welcome with a kindly (albeit, more subdued) greeting of his own. “A pleasure to meet you,” the curved tip of her horn is inclined towards him, doe-eyes shining beneath long lashes before her attention shifts to the young spotted mare. The pegasus (the label feels somewhat awkward in her mind, considering the wondrous singularity of the girl’s wings) responds just as generously, and Tiamat’s cheeks warm pleasantly at the compliment. “Thank you,” she smiles bashfully, the length of her lion tail curling around her legs.

The silence doesn’t linger between them for long; the blue-eyed stallion soon issues forth some inquiries, as Tiamat expected he would. Her expression softens when he apologizes for his wariness, nostrils flaring and her brow knitting together in sympathy. The spotted mare speaks first, and Tiamat nods once in agreement, white eyes flickering to the other mare before settling again on Fen’Harel. “Yes, no need to apologize; I understand how overwhelming it can be—there’s so much new information, it’s a lot to absorb,” she laughs lightly, offering him a gentle grin.

The ocean mare can still recall her own experience in the Threshold like it was yesterday—even if years have passed, she will never forget the excitement, the kindness of the brown mare, and the offer that would change her life forever. To give Fen’Harel the same opportunity, to help him and perhaps give him a home again, is all she wishes to achieve.

With dainty ears slanting forward, she listens as the pegasus explains Helovia’s four gods, velvet lips pursing in a soft line before she speaks herself, allowing a breath of silence to separate their words. “I’ll admit that I don’t know much about Helovia’s religious beliefs,” she glances to the chocolate stallion almost shyly, worried that her ignorance might dissuade him, but she can’t give knowledge where there is none. Tiamat has seen all four of the gods herself, but has yet to speak with any of them directly (and again she pushes away the memories of the violence that had surrounded their celestial bodies, of the hate that they had brought to them). The gods know what is best, don’t they?

They only do what is right…don’t they?

Tiamat releases a shaky breath from her nostrils, shifting her weight to bring ease to her anxious mind, to drive away these dark thoughts and fill herself with the joy that she holds so dear (so desperately). “They usually communicate with us through Wise Ones, the seers,” she continues, offering a smile that is sincerer as her thoughts turn to the Basin’s Seer, their Haruspex—and her dear, dear friend.

White eyes drift to the frozen ground for a short moment, her features relaxing into her usual jubilant candor, the dark hair of her tail brushing against the snow as her muscles unwind from her brief discomfort. “I have yet to be met with hostility myself, I’ve made many friends since finding Helovia,” the ocean mare smiles while she addresses his second concern, a trace of laughter lacing her voice that reaches to enlighten her eyes. Indeed, there are numerous individuals that have been tucked in the folds of her heart (ever uninhibited in her kindness, ever unwavering in her affection). “I like to believe in people,” she says softly, looking up to meet the stallion’s blue eyes with a gentle smile.


“Speech.”