a bright star, so no one lets you down

I will shine to guide you.

The apparent collage of emotions that twists across the stallion’s face does not go unnoticed by the ocean mare, though she couldn’t hope to understand what he might be feeling—even if she knew what was troubling him. While the Rift God wars had forced upon her the first bitter taste of the darkness of the world, her sheltered mind couldn’t fathom how deep those shadowy chasms can entrench themselves across someone’s heart and mind. As far as she is aware, the ocean maiden has led a blissful and pure life, living in a world that is far too fragile for reality.

All the same, her heart goes out to this stranger, her healer’s soul ever selfless. She watches him, white eyes glittering with genuine concern, the weight of her body leaning absently in his direction as every fiber in her being calls for her to soothe, aid, and mend whatever might be broken (physical or otherwise). A smile curves its way easily across sapphire lips when the stallion finally speaks (and she notices how his attention seems to be swallowed by her oceanic companion—he is not the first, and Tiamat is sure he won’t be the last).

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen much worse,” the mare assures him with a crooked grin, a thread of laughter lacing her tone. Of course, this simple statement surfaces memories that her delicate mind would like to forget (memories of bloodshed, violence, chaos, and hate). Never before had the Mender felt so helpless and small as she had stood among them, crying for it to stop, for them to stop, but still the ugliness had raged on. Every distraction is a taste of relief from the nightmares. With doe-eyes tracing the handsome lines of the stallion’s face, she grasps for her own distraction, as little as it might be in comparison to his demons.

Still, like a balm for wounds, her smile comes effortlessly. “A pleasure to meet you, Voodoo,” Tiamat offers him a friendly inclination of her horned brow, one of her ears tipping forwards to hear his voice over winter’s low howl. Surprise lights up her expression when he reveals that he, too, had once lived in the Basin. “You were? The world can be such a small place,” she tosses her head with an airy giggle. There are numerous questions that bubble to the tip of her tongue, feeding her curiosity, but perhaps it is time to satiate Voodoo’s apparent curiosity.

Arching her neck to brush her muzzle across the little whale’s head, she turns again to face the stallion, a twinkle in her eye. “This is Nimue, my companion,” Nimue gives a short, low whistle at the mention of her name, pressing closer to her bonded while staring curiously at the strange man, “She’s a Leviathan—a cousin to the larger whales who live in the ocean. She’s young now, only a couple of seasons old; she’ll get much larger.” The mare exhales a misty breath from her nostrils, her grin twisting into a knowing, playful smirk. “You aren’t the first one to stare,” Tiamat explains, intending to ease whatever awkwardness he might be feeling, “I’ve only ever seen one other myself.”

The Mender allows silence to momentarily fall between the two of them, giving Voodoo time to process this new information (and, mostly, to give a polite enough pause before she rushes back into her own questions). Shifting her weight on the stone floor, she eventually continues: “If you don’t mind me asking…why did you leave the Basin?” The highland valley is so very dear to her, so it is difficult for her to understand why anyone would want to leave. “Where do you live now?” Tiamat questions him with kindly interest, not intending to probe as her eyes sparkle beneath the colorful lights.


notes; Nimue Reference
“Speech.”