She finds herself pleasantly surprised when Dragomir comes to stand beside her. She is not one for conversation, almost always keeping to herself at these sorts of things, going about whatever task is set out before her. But she didn’t dislike Dragomir (which is, in her world, a compliment). And more to the point, if anyone at the moment understood just how she felt, it was Dragomir. And Isopia, to be fair, but Isopia lived a whole step above Syrena and her mere mortal status. It was easier, somehow, to stand beside Dragomir instead.

“As well as can be expected,” she says truthfully. She simply felt lost now. The Falls had made sense for her. But where now? The Edge held no real bodies of water, and therefore no appeal. Maybe the Throat, only because she could spend large amounts of time swimming to and from the Throat. But she’s not even sure they’d take her, given her lack of wings. Or the Basin. But did she care for the Basin either?

The land ruled by the Earth God, who was as close to a sea god as they actually had, made sense for her. But she doesn’t belong beneath the Sun or the Moon or whatever the Spark ruled.

“You?” she asks, after a moment too long. At least she remembered to ask. Remembered that this is how conversations worked. She always tended to assume that one would just offer such personal information if they felt like it, but that’s not polite or something.

She keeps an ear flicked in his direction, waiting for his answer. Though her other ear stays trained on the Yeti, because at the end of the day, she’s not here for polite conversation. She’s here for the egg in that nest on his horns. Even if she should actually be running away screaming from the Yeti if she had any sense. And soon, he’s telling them what he wants in return, shaking the ground with his fists and making his point abundantly clear as he spits on them. Where the bits of spit land on her skin, she turns red and orange beneath the warm spit. Though soon it freezes, and the color changes to blue and green.

Gross. This really wasn’t her type of water.

But he asks for a crown. She’s vaguely tempted to see if Dragomir has figured out his skill with making thing appear and if he could make a crown appear for her too. But that’s probably not how this is supposed to work. Though really, would the Yeti care? If it’s a decent crown….She cuts that train of thought off, instead trying to figure out what she can make a crown out of.

She walks away from Dragomir until she finds a patch of that weird Aura Grass that glows during Tallsun. She comes back with it, turning her head awkwardly to try and get the string of shells out of her mane. She takes a good chuck of mane with it, but manages to get the shells. She’s loathe to part with it, but if it gets her that egg…

Syrena gets to work tying the grasses into a circlet, slowly fortifying the base of a crown with the hair she’d torn from her mane. She ends up with a twirling circle of grass and hair. As it sits in the cold snow, the hair turns to swirls of cold colors – blues and purples and greens. She’s not actually sure how long that magic will last ripped from her body, but maybe if she’s lucky, it’ll last long enough to get her the egg. Or, knowing how her life has been going lately, it’s going to stop right now.

Either way though, she loops the seashells around the crown until it’s complete. She can’t help but glace to Dragomir, who’s she’s come back to while she worked, to see what he’s come up with. And to Isopia, who’s used her magic and Hubris’ to create a rather impressive creation of rock and ice. Of course.

Horses present their creations to the Yeti. She watches, finally adding in her own voice when there’s an appropriate lull in the presentations. “A crown of the Aura Grass from the Steppe, with a touch of the sea.” The shells sound like the ocean. It’s a quiet sound, but obvious enough if you listen. The constant crashing of the waves in that lulling, rhythmic way that they never cease. Hopefully the hair and, in the right season, the grasses would continue to change colors as well. It would make the crown far more impressive.

OOC: Syrena makes a crown by twirling together Aura Grass and a piece of her mane. She ties her shell string around the crown, which emits the sound of the sea.