but dreams of love
The mare closes her eyes in a long blink, enjoying the familiarity of her home around her. A single ear slants downward when she feels her companion’s touch against her side, and the two lean into each other, both drinking in the comfort of the land that they will always know and cherish.
When Qeren accepts the sprig of rose-hips, Tiamat’s smile deepens, happy that the taller mare is apparently comfortable enough to accept her aid. “If you need anything else, please let me know,” the sea maiden assures her new herd mate with sincere earnestness, ever the healer and ever the mender of the world’s calamities. Satisfied that Qeren is well enough for now, she sinks pleasantly into the peace of the Basin. She doesn’t pressure for their conversation to continue, although she is pleased when Qeren voices a question without further encouragement, wondering about the blue mare’s time in the mountains.
Tiamat pauses shortly to ponder the time. “I first came to Helovia several years ago—almost five, I think,” she shakes her head, disbelief shadowing her smile. Has is really been that long? It seems impossible, but the months have slipped steadily away, leaving the Mender with a treasure trove of memories. “I had to leave briefly due to personal reasons, but I was eager to return as soon as I was able. In all the time that I’ve spent in Helovia, I’ve always lived in the Basin. I love this valley—it’s my home,” a breath of laughter breezes through her words, and her white eyes are cast around them with fondness.
She couldn’t imagine having to live anywhere else. Even as much as the ocean calls to every fiber of her being, and she adores her father so, the ocean is not home. Her lion tail brushes through the tall grasses, as if to stroke the earth beneath her feet. Quietly returning her attention to Qeren, Tiamat inquires of her: “Would you like to see the hot springs? They’re on the other side, just around the lake.” With a motion of her chin she gestures across the water’s glittering surface, where cascades fall gently from the rocky summits.
“Speech.”
@Qeren
magic & force are permitted.