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

The ocean mare’s eyes are bright as she watches the bay mare drift into the shadows of the cave, the golden light of dawn glistening over the peaks and highlighting the soft lines of her face, animated by her enthusiasm. Never mind that her nights have been restless, that her colorful dreams have been haunted by the hate, that every thought seems to be shadowed by the wars on the horizon—she is a creature of optimism, of hope, and refuses to allow herself to wallow when there is beauty to distract her. She cannot possibly linger on the darkness when there is so much light to brighten her mind, infusing every fiber of her being with the purity of innocence—of simplicity.

Truly, it is that simple, is it not?

She would surely shine if it were possible—the radiance of her hopefulness and youth haloing the curve of her smile, the light of her eyes as she watches Lena return with their revered, generous herbs. Tiamat does not have any sort of magic to support her in her aid of others, and while the possibility of not being able to successfully mend because of this still troubles her, she does not feel as desperate and helpless as she once had. These herbs—these sprigs and roots of bounteousness—have buoyed her among her doubts, and have given her capability where uncertainty once festered.

Raising her gaze from these herbs, her smile broadens when the brown mare offers her an opportunity to assist—a privilege Tiamat is only too eager to accept. Any chance to hone her knowledge of these remedial things is precious. “I would love to!” The length of her leonine tail sways in her excitement, white teeth flashing in her joy that she nearly overlooks the fact that Lena is not quite finished. The confidence and pride that the Time Mender bestows in her gaze is enough to warm the blue mare’s heart, and she feels as though she might burst in her happiness. “Really?” Her voice is a breath of elation, the promotion unexpected and joyous in its opportunity.

“Oh, Lena, thank you!” All of the shadows of sorrow and frustration that had harassed her since her waking are now gone—dashed away by the delight of this magnificent, beautiful day. She reaches out to the bay mare in earnest gratitude, her appreciation flourishing as she withdraws, the white of her eyes shifting to their gilded Lord. “Thank you, my Lord,” the ocean mare tips her head in a bow of respect and gratitude, truly and entirely thankful for this opportunity.

Tiamat can barely contain her grin, the enormity of her rapture too great to harness, but she is left only a moment to revel in her joy before their conversation is pressed forward. She breathes deeply through her nose—trying to quell the bubbling of her muscles, to little avail—before glancing to the appropriate herb and then back to the stallion. “That one is figwort, it’s a plant native to our own home,” a quick glance is cast towards Lena, making sure it is okay for her to continue, “The whole plant can be used, and it has a lot of medicinal uses. It can help ease lymphatic discomfort, such as a sore throat, or help relieve dry skin and skin inflammation. It’s also good for your heart and digestive tract, in smaller amounts.”

The blue mare gives a little smile and dainty nod to her Lord. She could go on about figwort of course, more in depth, but she remembers how overwhelming all of the information can be—especially with herbs. There are so many of them! And so many uses in between them, it can sometimes be only too easy to confuse what is what. She allows the Time Mender opportunity now, confident in her method of teaching, and certain that their golden Lord will not be left disappointed.


notes; :DD
“Speech.”