like the ocean kissed the sky,
at the most beautiful place under the sun

The mare’s tulip-shaped ears lean forward in unison, catching the depth of the stallion’s voice with a spark of excitement in her pale eyes, which is dampened for only the shortest of moments. “I don’t know who Erebos is,” she admits almost bashfully, only aware of her black Lord’s daughter, Lothíriel (despite his son being a particularly larger presence in their mountainous kingdom), although her voice is opened in an invitation for Rikyn to explain his mystery friend (there are many things that Tiamat is unaware of when it concerns her precious home—its prejudices, for one—among other dark, shadowy secrets that have thus far been kept from her innocent mind, too good and trusting to see her home as any different).

Casting a brief glance downward before looking back to the black-brown male from beneath long lashes, the blue mare’s countenance brightens once more. “But born here!” She exclaims in breezy enthusiasm, her smile broadening across her lips, “That’s wonderful, I don’t believe I’ve met someone who’s been born in Helovia for…a very long time—that I know of, at least. What fortune to live in the land you were raised in!” She can’t imagine what that must be like. While the Aurora Basin has ever been the only home for her, she remembers waking on Helovia’s shores years earlier, knowing nothing of her existence prior to that momentous, blessed day.

Releasing a wistful sigh to herself, the ocean mare shifts her attention back to her new-found friends, a quick glance given to Zandora when Rikyn confirms that she is from the Basin as well. Tiamat’s bright smile returns all the wider, truly delighted to have become acquainted with more of her herd mates. She is tempted to question the other mare further—how long has she been in the Basin?—but the gilded stallion continues then, silencing her tongue and enticing her focus to settle again on his handsome features.

She laughs blithely at his comments, arching her neck and tucking her fine head into her chest for a moment as her cheeks warm (the ocean mare is far from a pompous or vain character, but she still loves to be appreciated, as most others do, and wouldn’t hesitate to return anyone the favor—after all, isn’t that what they are meant to do: make one another feel good about themselves? And value their fellow men?) “I would say so,” her eyes dance beneath the sun’s light, the trees’ massive boughs throwing mottled shadows across her face.

“It’s been delightful to meet you, Rikyn—and you too, Zandora. I intend to see you both again in the future,” she grins to both of them, the plumed length of her lion tail brushing over the rocky ground behind her. Tiamat imagines seeing their faces again back in the Basin, and suddenly, her dear mountain valley becomes a little smaller, in the best of ways—a little homier. The picture lifts her spirits; her white eyes rise to glance happily to her mother sky before they trail down slowly, wandering across the blue stone before returning to her company. “What exactly are you meant to be patrolling around here? We are a long way from home,” the last of her voice is laced with laughter, a gentle tease, while her head tilts to the side in curiosity.


“Speech.”