Look to love, you may dream—hope is home, and the heart is free.

As the oceanic pair travels further south with the Valkyrie and her hellhound, Tiamat takes in their surroundings with enthusiastic curiosity. While the blue maiden has ventured as far as the Heart Caves before, it had only been once or twice—and even then, the darkness of night had obscured many of the desert’s details. It is vastly different from the highland mountains that she has come to know and love. The air is far warmer and a different kind of dry—with some grains of sand never quite seeming to make it to the ground. Tiamat snorts to keep herself from sneezing, her eyes half-lidded to protect them from the brightness of the sun.

All the same, she would never try to deny the beauty around her. Mother nature has never failed to leave the sea mare in awe, and this journey is no exception—how amazing it is, that a few hundred miles can make such a difference in terrain! There is always something new to discover in this grand world. And in all that she has to take in, the rhythmic crashing of her father’s waves is a familiar comfort, beckoning the Mender ever closer with strong, frothy fingers.

When the Valkyrie speaks, Tiamat’s eyes turn to the rosy mare at her side, a smile softening her lips at her Lady’s generous comment. The ocean mare feels more than honored to be able to take this journey with her. “I’d like to change that as well, my Lady,” the curved tip of her horn dips forward as she gives a small, humble bow to her superior, her eyes bright with honest excitement. Of the four herd lands, she has only ever seen her own home—a fact she has always sought to remedy with a visit to her Helovian neighbors. To do not only that, but also represent her beloved home, is an honor that Tiamat holds dear to her heart.

When figures emerge in the distance, Tiamat feels her stomach flutter from both nervousness and anticipation. It is a griffin that arrives first, soon followed by his bonded. She introduces herself as Aithniel, the Throat’s Sultana, and is a beautiful woman, who is soon accompanied by a large black stallion—Volterra, the Throat’s Gladiator. “A pleasure to meet you both,” Tiamat dips her head respectfully to each of them, smiling as she would to any other stranger.

However, once the pleasantries are aside and their reason for visiting explained, the conversation takes an unexpectedly hostile turn. There are no blows dealt and no threats spit from bared teeth, but the tone between each of them grows cold with accusations. Tiamat had not expected this. The things that both her Lady and Aithniel are saying seem preposterous and petty—surely the Basin had never been so cruel!

There is a sense of pride (akin to indignation) which sparks inside the blue mare’s chest when Hotaru defends their mountain home, reassuring the Sultana that equines of all races are welcomed in the north. Tiamat isn’t sure what to say, and not wanting to make things worse on her first political journey, she opts to remain silent, standing as a wordless supporter for the Valkyrie. Despite the sudden surge of questions that are churning in her own mind, Tiamat keeps her expression earnest, wanting nothing but the Throat’s trust. If only they could see the beautiful highland valley as she does.


notes; Sorry I completely fail with the late reply, but she's here ;-;
“Speech.”