"A pleasure," comes the charming and confident answer from my lips. My strength rolls off the tongue and leaves behind a sweet taste; I cannot help but attribute the newfound stability to Arbutus, even as he sleeps upon my withers. "I am Tares, and this is Arbutus," I offer freely, nudging the little phoenix and causing the embers upon his back to leap up with a live flame. I can tell by the pattern of his fire that he is sleeping restlessly and that his mind is interrupted by dreams- the twitching of his wings is a giveaway. Slowly I turn my gaze from him to Cassiopeia, and nod my head downwards in an offer for her to join me upon the ground. Were it not for Arbutus' precariously balanced position I may have risen to greet her, for one with a heavy scent and such an air as she carried was likely to be respected, but I feared my exhaustion may have kept me grounded even still.

      She asks about my time in this land, which she names firmly as Helovia, and I am filled with sadness, memory, and regret. My gaze travels to the earth beneath me, where my long black beard and mane twist amongst the ash and dirt, and shine a slight orange in the reflecting light of the heart. "I arrived some time ago after the destruction of my old lands, but have only recently begun to settle in the wake of my father's death," I offer in response, my voice shaking slightly when I recall Voltaic's end and feel once more the fresh pain of not being at his side. I cannot look at the mare before me, the pain digs into me too deeply and with too much intensity for me to focus on anything else. Between my shoulders Arbutus shifts and lowers his flames to lick the base of my neck tenderly- even asleep I sense he understands my feelings. I cast a curious glance towards him and catch one black eye opened, but as soon as I make contact it shuts quickly, as if he would rather I think he was asleep at the time.

      I can't help it, the phoenix's antics bring a slight curl to the edge of my lips. My forelock falls over my saddened eyes, and by the time I blow it out of my vision with a huff of air through my flaring nostrils, my expression is one of apathy once more. Back to normal, then- not caring about anything for fear that caring will simply cause pain. But still, I must be sociable. I look up at the mare slowly, and my tone rises with a question. "Have you been here long? You smell of one of the herd lands I've passed in my journey through this land," I ask with a rising brow and a low, soft tone. I don't want to seem intrusive, but the curiosity I missed out on as a filly is catching up to me. Besides, maybe this mare can offer me a home not filled with bigoted, racist unicorns. What a blessing and a first that would be.