[open] Winter has come [any]

[Maribel]

Who cares if hell awaits? We're having drinks at heaven's gate. Maribel is not the typical face you might see poking out from around a snow sheathed tree with the silver of her hair wrapped around her white-out face. Only the glitter of two blue eyes are what stand out from the camouflage she sometimes wore when out and about, exploring the lands of her home. An unfamiliar call catches her attention, draw away from the sly little snow hare that was currently playing hide and seek with the young mare. It is low, heavy with a heart sinking exhaustion as if the caller was burdened by something. Slender limbs pick their way over the newly formed frost from the easly morning. Mari was always too curious for her own good. Not too far off stands the shape of an ice horse and ice baby. Large azure pools widen with surprise as her own skin returns to the gold of her palomino coat. It appears as if the two were sculpted from the very ice of the Tundra! Did Dad do this? Mari walks right up smack dab to the frozen equines. Lobes flicker to and fro upon a tilted skull before she walks up close to Weir and bumps her nose against what is his own, playing a bit of pretend with Weir (before she even knows it's Wier). "Well, how do you do?" She says in a sing song manner and proceeds to give a deep bow. Eyes shift to the little one as she straightens and gives him a smile. But wait- What's that? Mari moves closer to the ice horse...so close she is practically breathing on him as she looks to his eye... Did it just blink?! Maribel is skidding back as she trips over herself in surprise, her skin shifting to a whirlwind of colors, any and all that you could ever imagine. Her hind end finally finds purchase on the ice just as her finely muscled haunches fold under her in a rather unladylike -plop!-. Mari just sits there now blinking in disbelief that the ice horses were in fact, real horses! "Oh gosh! So sorry about that!" Her voice quivers with the aftershock of the startle. She is too shocked to scoop herself up and give a proper greeting. The chiseled skull twists to look about her to see if anyone had seen her embarrassing foolishness. It was a blessing that hopefully no one (other than Weir and Rowling, of course) had witnessed her carelessness. When she looks back to the stallion and colt, her skin burns to a deep crimson as a lopsided smile dances across her lips and she kind of gives a tiny shrug as she starts to gather herself and find her feet again. "I'm Maribel, by the way." The tones creep outward sheepishly as she shakes the fresh powder of snow from her coat. "What brings you to the Tundra?" Sapphire pools blink from beneath the platinum tinted tresses and dancing with curiosity. M A R I B E  L