“It’s too late to turn back now,” the ocean mare murmurs to her companion with the whisper of a smile, her voice lost quickly in the frigid gales that pull them to and fro. Earlier in the day, the sun had been shining brilliantly over the winter wonderland of Helovia, inspiring the blue Mender to set out from her mountain home and take advantage of the quiet beauty. It hadn’t been long after when both whale and unicorn found themselves ascending the steady climb towards the Heavenly Fields. While still undoubtedly cold, the weather had been pleasant then, pristine and peaceful—neither of them could have anticipated what her mother sky had in store for them.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the puffy white clouds thickened, churning and lowering ominously before releasing their fierce torrents. Flurries upon flurries of snowflakes fell from the heavens, each carried in a different direction by the icy winds that had begun to howl their mournful cry. By this time, the oceanic pair had already been more than halfway along the path to the precipice—to turn back would not have been the wisest choice, and Tiamat knew well enough from her time in her highland home that they should keep moving, or risk the onset of frostbite.

Now they have nearly reached the summit. Keeping her neck arched around the young Leviathan, Tiamat holds her companion close; while Nimue (with her natural blubber and affinity towards cold waters) is more suited to such weather, this is the first blizzard she has ever experienced in her fledgling life. The mare can feel the Leviathan quiver against her skin, with waves of anxiety and fear rolling between the connection that they share.

Cooing softly, Tiamat’s smile strengths when she feels the ground begin to level beneath her hooves, and although her vision has been reduced to a hazy white sheet of wind and snow, she knows that shelter is not far now. Shuffling on numb legs, the Mender guides them both to the side, where memory tells her there is a copse of trees that will do them good. She nearly runs into a trunk as it rises suddenly from the sheet of snow, but Tiamat can only laugh, knowing that the earth would not forsake them. “Come, my darling,” she noses Nimue ahead of her, ushering the young orca deeper into the woodland, where only white dust and the strongest winds can reach them.


notes; NIMUE REFERENCE
“Speech.”

tiamat

it was a place she needed.