[open] Paper crowns on wooden heads; ANY

[Maribel]

Who cares if hell awaits? We're having drinks at heaven's gate. The color shifter currently is cloaked in the very drab gray that is fogging the Field. She is clever enough to camouflage and blend with the surroundings. It was difficult being such a young mare and meeting new faces. A paralyzing shyness had clamped it's claw around her delicate throat only months ago but with the opening of the Tundra to all genders forces her to shed the smothering of bashfulness. The girl is still a work in progress. Deep blue pools catch sight of a stallion standing alone in the drizzle. Mari herself is saturated but she pays it no mind. As her legs move to pivot her towards the male, her skin changes and reveals the honey hue that is her normal attire (though darkened by the rain) and the platinum silver of her mane and tail (slack and stringy and wrapping against her brow and neck) but still, the warmth of her smile is dancing on her lips as she nears the stallion. (Oh how the times have changed with mares inviting stallions home!) "Hi there." Perhaps he'd finder her voice a little too chipper and bright, but Mari knows no other way to be. "I'm Maribel from the Tundra." She allows a sliver of time to slip through. "This rain is quite persistent today." Sapphire eyes roll and squint at the sky then look back to the smoke stained male. "What's your name?" The small chit-chat is typically not so grinding but when you are standing in the open, your skin heavy on your bones from the rain...well, you get the idea. Mari glances around them for the possible shelter of trees before flickering her attention back to the drippy features of her new acquaintance. M A R I B E  L