Today, Thea is a bird. This one is new, though it’s a good form, and Syrena finds she likes her companion’s choice at the moment. Yellow-bellied (literally) and a back and wings of brilliant, almost metallic blue. She’s been diving in and out of the oasis all morning, catching fish. Syrena’s watched, fascinated by the way the bird can keep eyes and wings open even underneath the water. A creature built for sea and sky. Thea, to her credit and for all the many forms she has taken, tends toward water creature. Or at least, things that seem to be able to cross from land to sea without issue. She knows her bonded far too well already.

Soon though, Thea is hovering in the air, radiating excitement. When Syrena finally looks back up, the bird is flipping and flapping in the direction of…something. Syrena can’t see what her bonded sees yet, and only has excitement as her clue. Though since Thea seems hellbent on getting Syrena to live her life again, to be a more sociable creature, Syrena is going to assume there’s another horse nearby.

So she follows Thea, who flits happily above her bonded, leading the way. No wonder Volterra ignored her comment about coming here at Thea’s demand. Syrena was following a bird. Taking orders, in fact, from a bird. Soon enough a group of horses comes into view, and Syrena nearly halts, countering excitement with annoyance. She can feel the emotions wavering in Thea for a moment, because Thea knows full well Syrena doesn’t like crowds. But before she can turn tail and be over it, Thea is flying straight toward Pat.

The blue bird flutters about his head, hoping he’ll recognize her (though his only clue are the purple eyes Thea never loses), and really, making sure Syrena follows. Which of course she does, because she can’t control her wayward companion. Thea controls her. She’s there in enough time to catch the tail end of what the mare is saying, asking the foals to help. Then a stallion is speaking, and she remains silent, slightly away from the group but trying not to look like she’s avoiding them. She’s just avoiding the possibility of accidental touch. “If you could use more help, I’ve got nothing to do.” she offers when there’s a pause in the conversation. “I’m Syrena, and that’s Thea.” She nods to the bird who’s still happily entertaining herself around Patrick’s head, assuming he hasn’t shooed her away by now. Syrena wouldn’t blame him.