She hears the two men well before she sees them. Their low tones—a mixture of masculinity and silk—carry quite easily through the woodland, with the spring breeze ferrying their words to the ocean mare like a sigh of beckoning. She cups their voices with tulip-shaped ears, exhaling with the wind as it passes, before her large eyes glance through the forest. Seeing no one from where she stands, the ocean maiden moves forward. Cloven hooves step daintily through the underbrush, following paths long-since weathered by countless pairs of passing feet, each on a journey towards a strange new world. How wondrous it is, that so many different paths of life can be filtered into this same place!

Tiamat ponders on what stories these trees could tell, what they would say, and who they have seen. Only when her companion nudges her flank does the mare stir from her reveries, sucking in a breath before her head turns towards the little whale. Nimue whistles softly, bumping her round nose gently against her bondmate’s, and the two share a breath before, suddenly, they are no longer alone. Stumbling into the small clearing with steps as smooth as water, Tiamat offers both of them a bright grin.

“Good day, gentlemen!” Her voice is a coo of warmth and delight, the rays of sun that filter through the leafy boughs framing her delicate features, and enlightening the geniality in her eyes. They are both much larger than herself, the two stallions (??—she accidentally catches a glimpse of something (or lack of something, rather) that suddenly makes her cheeks blush with a flood of embarrassment).

Quickly she moves on with her train of thought, focusing first on the handsomely burnished man. “My name is Tiamat. Reichenbach, was it? I caught your voice through the trees—” the ocean mare gestures towards the woods that surround them, a softer smile on her lips when she looks back to the stallion, “Such an exotic name, you’ll have to tell me more.” There is an honest curiosity in her expression. Ever curios of the world and ever eager to learn more, Tiamat finds that her curiosity is rarely satisfied. Clearing her throat, Tiamat then looks to the lighter colored male, maintaining her amiable grin. “I don’t believe that I caught yours, Sir?” She questions him with an equal amount of interest, the length of her tail swaying gently around her hips.


notes; eee so happy to be threading with you two!
“Speech.”

the ocean loved her—

and knew everything that made her