.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
There’s good reason for the Throat stallion to be hesitant about visiting the Basin, and it’s name is Wessex. Self-proclaimed protector of Tiamat and admirer from afar (sometimes very close, but shhhh, that’s a secret), ever since she’d protected their now-Lady in the Marsh. Now, it’s not a creepy-type of watching, nor does she hover like a protective mother, but she was already patrolling around the Sentinels when a foreign voice hailed the Basin. Her normally quick route down was blocked by a mudslide, due to melting snow from the peaks, and so she had to pick her way down by another path - and it takes the horned soldier considerably longer to reach the entrance.
By the time she does, her orange-yellow eyes spy their effervescent Lady and a stranger conversing, and she cannot help but frown. Just a bit. And only because they stand closely, and a spark of jealousy lights somewhere in her breast. She makes no attempt to hide her approach, and truly, it would be a difficult thing to do, but almost makes no greeting until she is within speaking distance. A low nicker is offered to Tiamat as she draws up along her right side - close enough to indicate friendship and comfort. Her kohl-rimmed gaze bares down on the stallion as she interrupts his soiree. “Hello. I’m Wessex. I see you know our Lady…” She offers a smile to Tia, then, and turns her head to offer the woman an affectionate gaze, before turning back to the stranger.
Ours, she said - hers. Not his. And so, like the awkward escort or mischeivous child who sees Mommy getting friendly with a man, she purposefully inserts herself into their conversation.
W E S S E X
@Reichenbach @Tiamat
Oh haiiiiii XD
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --
