Brow quirked at the snarky comment from her taller, ivory counterpart, forcing a sigh from the smaller mare. Oh, how dare me? Thought the tiny lass with exasperation, Where do I get off? Giving constructive criticism where constructive criticism is due? A low, snorting laugh gave voice to her displeasure; Helovia and its denizens, she was quickly learning, were lacking in both the humor and the amiability departments.

The response from the scaled mare was much of the same, monotone and lacking in enthusiasm, lacking in anything that could be mistaken for a love of one's homeland. Ovi had to keep her eyes from rolling, had to resist the urge to snap at the surrounding Helovians, to scream at them and shake them. What were they doing? This was no way to welcome someone to their land, no way to offer a life within their borders. They were painting the magnificent continent in shades of gray, stealing the glamour and beauty from a wild, magical land, and squaring it up into little, torturously boring boxes.

Clenching her jaw, her aurelian gaze drifting toward the owl perched upon the unicorn stallion's head, Ovidius made sure to swivel an ear in the direction of the ghoulish mare. The newcomer's words were laced with a fatigue that the tiny lass knew well. She also knew that with the lack of enthusiasm for anything in particular, her fellow equines should be thankful that their bids for the stranger's membership weren't falling upon deaf, exhausted ears.

As her frustration mounted, Ovi watched the gods-be-damned feather duster upon the stallion's head. She bared her teeth at it, hoping that would be good enough to make the thing look away, or at least blink. She shuddered in spite of her annoyance, birds had always seemed painfully creepy to the gold spiked mare; their stillness, their creepy head tilts, how fast they insisted on breathing all the time. Ovi could feel her stomach twist, nausea threatening to overcome her senses.

With a shake of her head, she swung her attention back to the matter at hand, though she was very well glaring from the anger echoing about in her skull, "The Unbound will expect that you live freely and fully, that you will expand your mind and find something you're passionate about and to pursue that passion. The Unbound will expect that you voice your opinions, your thoughts, your concerns, so that we may work toward a greater harmony together," Her lip curled, chagrin at her lackluster companions and their sorry bids for their homes climbing to endless heights, "We want you to grow and be glad among us, we want your company and we want your knowledge. We want to share our experiences with you while you gift us with your own."

Her tail flicked, catlike against her flanks, as she spit out the last of her words, voice dripping with passion and animosity, "We want you to be able to make your own choices ungoverned by the pressures of others."

Rounding on the white stallion, with his glass horn and his smug grin, with his pretty eyes and cruel heart, "And, sir," (She said sir, but goodness, did it give the impression she was saying something else) "If your glorified turkey could stop staring at me, it would be very, very appreciated."