He watches the mare curl and twist her neck to reach beneath the thick cerulean waves of her mane, emerging with a sprig of something brown and green between her teeth. The herb smells something like pepper but not so harsh and with a more earthy tone to it. Albrecht’s no healer and so he doesn’t have a name for the thing, but Tiamat seems happy and healthy enough having held it in her own mouth for a moment, so he cranes his neck to take it from her without suspiction, pressing forward slightly in an attempt to let the softness of his muzzle brush against hers in transfer.

It’s the first time he’s gotten to see the young Medic up close. Everything about her speaks to the open ocean, from the adornments of seaweed and mollusk shells she’s placed there herself to the very color and pattern of her coat; a layered blue with imprecise strokes of light like ripples of reflection across a water’s surface. Something smooth and iridescent circles her eyes, but he doesn’t get the chance to observe any further before the commanding presence of Lord Diemos himself bursts onto the scene and draws the mare’s attention away. It seems at times that the Lord of the Basin is inescapable, an omnipresent warden of the herd. Overachieving son of a bitch.

Brown and white Goliath mutters something, his head cocked to train the non-blood-smeared eye in Albrecht’s direction. He’s not overly familiar with moose language, but the unkind sheen of the strangers gaze prods him to mark one more tally in the ‘probably won’t attend your wake,’ column in his mind. Still though, he doesn't appreciate rash judgments - no matter how accurate they might be.

“Maybe let a guy commit hish crimesh before you go White Knighting all over the convershation, huh?” He gibes mildly, ginger root lending a slight lisp to the pronunciations. “Shank you Tiamat." He sing-songs to the healer, one ear tipped warily toward the black Lord should he find this inappropriate, though really he's seen and heard much worse from the old grump without complaint. 'Th,' sounds are hard with a full mouth you know.

The conversation continues without further interjection on Albrecht's part, as is becoming his custom when Diemos is in attendance. He watches vacantly, noting that the Moose-Man's name is Kodiak (how clever) and that he wishes to be a healer like his thalassic friend.


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OOC: Made you dictionary that shit didn't I? xD