Look to love, you may dream—hope is home,

and the heart is free.

“A pleasure, Zyanya,” the ocean mare reaches out towards the smaller maiden with a soft smile, brushing her muzzle against the other’s (should she allow it) in a gesture of friendship. In the past couple of hours, Tiamat has painfully realized how absent she has been from her herd family—of the new faces (of old ones who have left them), and of positions cycling from one shoulder to another. How much has she missed? She has taken no leave of Helovia, but for some reason she finds herself alienated more than ever. As though the world is moving on without her.

It is a silly notion, of course.

Tiamat would never intentionally set herself away from the happenings of the Basin and the world. She is the epitome of a social butterfly, after all. But, perhaps, these awful new feelings that have rooted themselves within her heart have seeded unfamiliar doubts—and unfamiliar fears. Never before had she considered the fact that she could feel so bitter (or that so much pain could sprout from the threads of love). There is so much she doesn’t understand, doesn’t know, and rather than feeling the swell of curiosity and excitement, she only feels fear. For the first time in her life, Tiamat considers the question: how much does she want to know?

Attempting to release all of her insecurities in a long exhale, she shifts her weight through the water, white eyes looking to Zyanya from beneath long lashes. “Indeed,” she manages to smile, “I have lived in the Basin for a few years now, and I wouldn’t trade it for any other place. The people here are my family.” The ocean mare finds it easier to relax as she talks about her beloved homeland, her love for the white mountains washing over her aching heart like a soothing balm. Her words are genuine, heartfelt, and she finds joy in knowing that someone else has found what she has.

“Also,” the blue Mender continues after a brief pause, her eyes sparkling beneath the light of her sister stars, “You don’t need to worry, we help each other out during the winter—bathing in the hot springs, sharing the warmth of fires, gathering wood. It’s cold, but you’re far from alone.” A breath of laughter softens the tail end of her words, knowing full well the generosity of her herd mates. With a slender build and satin skin, Tiamat is far from built for the ice and snow—but she has never suffered.

Sweeping her leonine tail in a long arc just beneath the water’s surface, the ocean mare shivers once as a rush of warmth bathes her body. Her eyes close in a long blink, opening just after the first syllable leaves her lips. “How long have you lived here?” Her gaze is unassuming and her smile is kind; she tries to focus on now, on these words, rather than the heaviness in her chest.

notes; I know the timeline between this and the herb gathering is a little fuzzy, so I figured just treat them independently from each other? :3
“Speech.”