Lowering her head awkwardly, Tiamat grips a handful of sticks in her mouth, with a few others tucked under her chin as she rises, her slender neck arching in towards her chest to hold them. Surely it is an amusing sight to watch, this blue mare nearly waddling in her awkward posture, shuffling through the powdery snow to a larger pile of sticks that sits tucked up against the mountain. Although Tiamat doesn’t need them herself, she figures it would be nice for others—fires are a popular thing this time of year, after all, and she would hate to have someone suffer in the cold.
This particular pile is in the middle of a gathering of caves, and with the wood kept from most of the snow, she figures someone will make use of it. Happily, she works, humming as she toddles around. Tiamat imagines singing to the trees as she hums, occasionally accompanied by the whistle of her horn as a breeze resonates through the hollow carvings. Although she works alone, she doesn’t feel lonely, her features brightened with her usual cheer as she makes her way to the mountain side.
Nudging her current bundle of sticks into her little pile, Tiamat is distracted when she hears the kindly call, the tones of the sound just barely familiar enough to stir vague memories. Raising her head, the ocean mare pivots on dainty heals and pushes towards the Basin’s entrance at a trot, blue knees lifting high as she ploughs through the thick drifts of snow (perhaps having a little too much fun, bounding in dancing leaps and laughing in delight by the time she nears her destination). Once the caramel stallion comes into view, Tiamat recognizes him instantly.
“Tilney!” She calls happily, a wide smile breaking across soft lips, her eyes alight with pleasure and her cheeks flushed from the frigid cold. “What a wonderful surprise,” the ocean mare says breathlessly once she halts before him, not hesitating a moment to reach out to him, dark whiskers seeking to embrace him in a gesture of friendship. She may not be as familiar with the antlered stallion as some others, but that does nothing to stop her from embracing him as a friend. If nothing else, the blue mare had been quite impressed with his chivalry—remembering his generous offer to share his furred garments in order to keep warm.
She only makes the best assumptions of his character.
With her grin never faltering from her lips, the ocean mare continues, a trace of laughter lacing her voice. “What brings you this far north, my friend? You’re quite a ways from home,” there is nothing in her expression to suggest that she would like anything else—the genuine delight in her eyes highlighting how much his visit is appreciated, “Is there anything I can do for you?” The mare leans her body forward as if to take a step, but cloven hooves remain where they are, her long tail curling happily behind her.
“Speech.”
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