the ocean loved her

and knew everything that made her

Considering how flat and unbroken the horizon is among these untroubled waters, voices travel across the distance easily. Even from her position closer to shore, Tiamat can hear the two children—her head rises in recognition, and a dainty ear quirks forward as her eyes search the pristine landscape. The two figures (shadowy and indistinct given the distance between them) aren’t difficult to distinguish among the otherwise immaculate waters, and so with an encouraging gesture for her companion to follow, the blue Mender leaps forward at a wide-sweeping trot. Nimue gives a low whistle before pursuing, soaring and twisting through the cold air as she plays in the wake of her bonded’s splashes.

It isn’t long before the foals’ features begin to become clear, and while the younger boy with electric wings is unfamiliar, the ocean mare identifies the spotted filly. Slowing as she approaches the two, Tiamat lowers her horned brow, smiling brightly to both of them before she turns her focus to the one gilded in flames. “Kiada is that you?” Her head tilts, the length of her lion tail sweeping across the water as she settles in between them. Nimue, less intimidated by these smaller people, lingers at the mare’s flank, her baby blues staring curiously between the two strangers.

“My how you have already grown! You’re as pretty as your mother,” Tiamat crows with delight, winking playfully at the filly. She isn’t sure how long it’s been since she’s seen Kiada last—or her mother—and while it saddens the Mender’s heart that they are no longer in the Basin, she doesn’t fault them for it.

Humming happily to herself, she brushes the filly’s forehead affectionately before her attention shifts to the boy. “And hello to you, young lad,” her grin comes easily, and she inclines her head while noticing the way he digs at the water. “My name is Tiamat—are you trying to find water? Are you thirsty?” Concern laces her questions, ever eager to offer aid to those she knows or not (besides, how could she not help him? He’s adorable!). “Here, let me help.”

There is a twinkle in her eye as she steps back. Reaching for her magic, Tiamat plucks a pocket of water from the halcyon sea, guiding it with this gifted muscle she has learned to hone. The orb hovers in the middle of the trio, churning gently in its own little current. The mare’s eyes never leave the watery pocket, all of her concentration consumed in feeling the water, and carefully separating it from the salt (which steadily spills back into the ocean in a slow, wet stream). It takes a moment, but eventually the Mender is able to smile, satisfied with the purification.

Guiding the orb (now smaller than it was initially) slowly towards the colt, she encourages him gently, “Go on, take a sip! You’ll find it isn’t salty.” At her side, Nimue huffs from her blowhole, spraying them all with a fine mist. Laughing to herself, Tiamat brushes her companion’s smooth head. “You look like you could use a drink too, darling,” she addresses Kiada, noticing the sweat that dampens the girl’s skin, despite the frigid weather. Concentrating again on the pocket of water, she divides it in two, leaving one for the boy while the other moves slowly towards Kiada. Grinning to each of them with her eyes shining, Tiamat waits, keen to see their reactions.


notes; Nimue reference
“Speech.”