The ocean mare lay tucked in the middle of a small copse of trees, legs folded beneath her and the stiff summer grasses bending beneath her body like a swaddling of bed sheets. She is comfortable, despite the heavy humid air, charged with the electricity that flashes above—swollen clouds teasing them with promises of moisture. “Are you happy for me, Mama?” The blue mare smiles, whiskers from her muzzle brushing against the polished, marbled surface of the egg, “Are you as excited as I am?” Glancing up between the canopy of leaves, laughter trills breathlessly from her lips, soon mingled with the low rolling of thunder.

“I can hardly believe it myself,” Tiamat murmurs, lowering her head to wrap her neck around the precious, glittering orb. It is warm against her skin, and if she is quiet enough, she imagines that she can feel it pulse—as if the life source within is already entwined with her own, beating as her own heart does. My companion. The words seem so foreign, so impossible, even in her mind, and yet somehow so right. The ocean mare does not know what she has done to deserve such an incredible and sacred blessing. Without a doubt, it had been more than chance that had put her on the Steppe that day—more than good luck—

—perhaps, more than destiny, even.

Sighing blissfully, the young Mender curls tighter around the egg (her egg). For now, it matters little as to how she had been so fortunate to receive this dearest creature—only that she has, and she will do everything in her power to honor this gift. The moose’s good blessing will not be forgotten.

With the warmth of the smooth egg pressing against her chest, the ocean mare drifts into a light but restful sleep, her lips softened with the shadows of a smile. Minutes pass into the night, maybe even hours. Her dreams are nebulous images of bright colors and beautiful lights, filling every bone with a swell of peace and happiness in her slumber. When she is roused into consciousness, it is by no burst of thunder, but rather a vague sense of movement—something recognized initially by her mind, only noticeable by her eyes once she blinks the bleariness of sleep away.

Is that—?

“Ashamin?” Tiamat whispers to the shadowy figure on the other side of the trees, lifting her head from the ground. It has been too long since she has seen her dearest friend. Far too long. Could it be? Brushing her muzzle across the speckled egg as she rises, she steps forward, squinting through the darkness. When a bolt of lightning cracks through the sky, it illuminates the figure, highlighting his features for but a moment—but long enough. “ASHAMIN!” Tiamat squeals, any inhibitions or bitterness at his leaving thrown aside, and she rushes to him. “Oh, my dear friend, my dear friend,” she breathes against his skin, pressing to his chest and wrapping her neck around his, “I am so happy to see you again.”


notes; Sorry it took so long! I will be faster, I promise<33
“Speech.”