The storm does not appear to be letting up. Thunder cracked again, followed by a bright flash of light. Standing beneath these trees was not the smartest idea. The harder the storm raged, the more irritated the little orange mare became. She caught the tail end of the introduction between the two mares she had nearly collided with. Tiamat was the blue and Narcissa was the large, brutey one. Such a dainty name for a large horse, how odd. Paradox also noted the small orca floating next to the ocean mare. Trilling happily with it's bonded's speech. Again, an ache built in her heart. How she longed for a companionship like that. Breaking her gaze from the mare and her companion, she shifted to peer up at the big mare- water dripping into her icy orbs as she gazed up. What are you doing out in the storm? The big mare retorted and Paradox's face contorted into a agitated expression. She sighed heavily and a thick tail batted her hips, Ashamin would not be pleased if she was rude, so brightening her expression, she chirped up a bit. Well, if you must know, I was out looking for recruits for the Unbound when a storm hit- then I decided I should get home because I dislike being wet- that's when I got here...satisfied? Sarcasm lingered in her words and she followed them with a sly smile.

Out of nowhere, the blue mare offers up some pretty extraordinary magic and surrounds the trio with what appears to be a water proof bubble. Upon the dry air, the orange mare shakes her coat- sending droplets soaring into the air. What a great talent.... She torts. You are of good use. And although it comes off slightly sarcastic, it truly is a genuine statement from the skull masked mare. She opens her mouth to speak again- when the husky mare barks again.....another look of exasperation plasters on Paradox's face. Why must this one be so difficult? She squints her eyes a bit, peering at the mare now in the dryness where she can clearly see. She would make a wonderful attribute to the crusaders of the Unbound- but Parry can't play on that now because interrupting her train of thought is the ocean mare speaking of her home land and how Narcissa, as she's called, could be a general there.

Ice orbs roll in her skull, but audits perk at the mention of Ashamin's name. Well it seems everyone here know the stallion, what a genuine guy he must be. A soft, authentic smile spread across her kissers and she nods slightly to the blue mare. I will send him your regards. She tore her gaze from the one with the porpoise friend and directed them back to the large mare. As for you, if you choose to stand in the storm- then so be it. I have better things to do like practice my sparring so I may be a better crusader for the Unbound. She pauses, attempting to gauge the mare's reaction. I've been practicing with our leader, Ashamin, but I'm sure since you were once a General, you could teach me a thing or two. Paradox was sure that others thought it silly for someone as small as her to be a crusader, but she had proved herself well against Ashamin and he was quite large and well versed in the battle field.

A "what-the-fuck" glance is cast at the large mare as she steps almost "protectively" in front of Tiamat- Paradox has to stifle a laugh. What in the world would someone of her stature do to these two larger mares? Surely, this big girl doesn't think that Paradox is THAT stupid. She blows the gesture off and her gaze shifts between mares, and partly she wishes this Tiamat mare was apart of the Unbound, because although she was bubbly and sweet (which is totally opposite of our Parry), Paradox could somehow see herself getting along with her. As far as the draft mare and herself, it would truly be a hit or miss. They could either get along dreamily- a bitch with a bitch- or totally clash heads. She didn't think she would wait here much longer though- the beach was calling her name, and her bones were aching for another spare. The choice is yours, Narcissa. I must admit, whoever you choose- the opposite of us will suffer quite the loss because you seem to be quite the attribute to any army. She dipped her head respectfully.