It's quite clear that this woman has no intention of being a threat, and the final simmerings of tension slip from the leviathan's muscles. She introduces herself as Myrrine, and inquires about becoming a healer in exchange for a place to stay. This is a new situation for him. Normally he goes to the Threshold to actively recruit new members, but to have one stumble upon his very doorstep? It's an interesting turn of events, and the stallion isn't entirely sure what he's supposed to do.

He doesn't allow his misgivings to show on his face, however. His features remain unfazed, as though he introduces himself to potential new members every day of the week. "A pleasure, Myrrine. I see no reason not to accept you into the herd, although I am not a leader. What sort of healing exactly do you specialise in?" It's probably best to find that out before he makes the invitation formal, because she could be an expert in poison who intends to kill them all in their sleep for all he knows. Her muzzle extends in greeting and he returns it with a gentle huff of his nostrils, pleased that this one seems to be as touch-orientated as he is.

She answers his question even as he's asking it, by revealing that she does not have healing magic but that she does have a rudimentary knowledge of herbs. The Indomitable nods his massive skull in understanding. "I cannot speak for them, but I'm sure our healer ranks will be glad of your expertise." As far as he knows, they're quite dwindling, and were one of the areas of concern raised in the meeting.

The mare suddenly becomes nervous, and the leviathan's jaws twist into a concerned frown. What she reveals, though, is nowhere near as bad as he'd thought - she has a child. His frown turns to a grin, as he's not the sort to judge anybody for having offspring of their own. "I cannot think of many herds that would chase a mother and her child from their doorstep. If such herds do exist, we are certainly not one. Families are welcome here." The mare looks too young to have a child of her own....then again, Volterra himself sired his first foal when he was barely out of boyhood.

She seems rather awkward and nervous, and the colossus does his best to make himself appear nonthreatening and welcoming. Given his monstrous size, muscles and scarring, that's quite difficult, but he gives it a valiant effort. At least his dragons are off hunting, else they would certainly not help put her at ease. "You needn't apologise, pillangó. I don't bite." He offers a somewhat devious wiggle of his eyebrows to suggest that he can bite when necessary. "What made you decide to join the Throat rather than one of the other herds?"