≋

She ventures west. She had always intended on this trip to Sylva during better circumstances - when Lepis could introduce her to Sabra. When Lepis was still alive. When she wasn't required to deliver that very news. But, alas, she flies into Sylva now and that, along with a self-introduction, is her purpose today.

She has practiced the words during her flight in the hopes that repeating it enough will desensitize her to it and keep her throat from tightening when the time comes to say it aloud for the Sylvan Queen. But it sounds different and more hollow when it is only for her ears in the sky.

She has landed at the cusp of the golden forest, just at the edge of Loess' territory. She knows that she can venture in, should she choose, but privacy is something she extends inherently to the leaders of her subkingdoms. This is, primarily, Sabra's domain and she will not disrespect that fact by intruding with no regard. So she calls into the forest with a resounding, mournful sound and waits patiently at the edge with golden eyes peering in.

She remembers, almost as an afterthought, that the woman she awaits is also a former lover to Castile. It's a funny thing to find amusement in, but at least she can still find amusement - it would seem that the dragon stallion is good at finding the strong women who will command the various helms of the Southern territories.

≋

The other woman's voice erupts nearly sing-song, but Oceane is unable to determine if there is anything warm contained within it; it feels like an inside joke, or an accusation, hidden behind the smile that she has painted across her face. The Loessian woman offers a polite smile in response but is unable to muster much more - Lepis' death remains at the forefront of her thoughts, blocking any desire or ability to entertain whatever it is that she is being greeted with.

“Are you Sabra?” she inquires hesitantly as her gilded eyes collide with the woman's blue ones; her gaze shifts momentarily to observe the rainbows that flash across her pelt from the sunlight, and then it returns from whence it came. What brings a pretty bird to my lonely neck of the woods? Oceane rustles the lavender wings at her side and clears her throat to speak just as the other woman whispers go away in a low hiss.

It seems misdirected, or even undirected, leaving the Queen feeling off-kilter by the encounter. “Is... is somebody bothering you?” She asks with an inquisitive tilt of her head before remembering the importance behind her business here. “My name is Oceane,” she charges ahead and takes a deep depth before spilling forth the information that she dreaded to speak aloud, “I've come to introduce myself and share some news. Lepis and I led Loess side-by-side, but now she...”

A hiccup in her words, the tightening of her throat once more. Oceane does her best to repress the sadness long enough to get the words out.

“Lepis succumbed to the fire that ravaged Loess.”

≋

She's quite unsure what to make of the variegation-winged mare; there is something off, something potentially dangerous, in the way she seems to swing back and forth between lucid and not. It makes her question, silently, who else may remain in these golden woods beside Sabra - but that is a worry to investigate at another time.

The Queen of Sylva confirms that they are alone and the certainty in her voice gives rise to gooseflesh along Oceane's spine. There's certainly not much else she's come to share with Sabra, though, and that somehow gives the Loessian Queen comfort - her visit will soon be over, and she will be able to go home to grieve in peace.

“Thank you,” she responds formally to the condolences offered and then nods, her lips pursed, at the comment regarding the smoke. “Y-yes...” she adds in affirmation, her voice a bit shaky as she begins to pivot back towards Loess.

“But if you'll excuse me, I need to return to Loess. Please come visit soon, if you find yourself in the airspace above.”