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I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
The Basiner had no intention of spying on a hatching - but the swim here had been far more arduous than she’d expected, and a simple exploration expedition had turned into an incredibly hard workout. Luckily for the horned mare, she’d grown up by the sea and swimming had been an early part of her childhood. Spent, and sprawled out on some lush grass just beyond the beach, she raised her head when she heard splashing down at the surf. Rolling to a more upright position, Wessex finds herself a silent observer to a rather miraculous event with a most unusual looking unicorn.
Lizard-eyes widen when the whale cracks the shell, realizing that that’s how companions come in to the world, because she’s 99% sure that regular whales are birthed, and not hatched. At least that’s what her mother told her, long ago. She then immediately wonders if Nimue might want to know, because there seem to be a noticeable lack of fellow floating whales. They weren’t the same kind, but surely the uncommon must stick together, right? Ah, but now Wessex is in the awkward position of needing to reveal herself. Maybe pretended ignorance is best. “Hello?” she calls out, then makes a bit of a fuss (loudly, that is - and it’s not hard, with her size) about hauling herself to her hooves and shaking as much dried sand as possible.
Unsure of how possessive the other might be, Wessex keeps her distance and simply looks over at the pair with a curious gaze. “Cool whale…” is eventually what comes out of her mouth, but only because she isn’t sure what else to say.
W E S S E X
@Aquila
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --
