It has taken a good half-decade, but finally, she begins to feel the cooler shift in the winter weather here in her Desert home. Up until this point, she had put the seasons down to hot (winter), hotter (spring), hellfire (summer) and unpleasantly stifling (spring). It was not in the poor little ponies breeding to come here, to such a painfully dry, scorched land - not when her ancestors had wandered across Tundra, never to feel the cold. However, she is beginning to adapt, slowly but surely.
She is by a little grove of palm trees next to the border, resting with Ketterley under the shade, her eyes half closed. The heat does have the most wonderful way of making one feel gloriously drowsy, leading to the most pleasant naps. She was in such a state, half dream, half reality, when a foreign scent hit her nostrils. Nothing totally unexpected, since Cam had welcomed most of them here, but nevertheless she goes off to do her duty: to greet and investigate.
The little buckskin mare trots off in the direction of the scent. That of a stallion, she presumes, musty and appealing to her nostrils (though of course, she wouldn't dream of betraying Hurricane). She advances to spot him on the horizon, politely waiting at the border. Some sort of diplomat, she assumes.
"Hello," she chirps, most jovially. She smiles her sweet smile, eyes sparkling with delight at the chance of a chat. Poor mare never seems to shut up these days. "I'm Pevensie, welcome to the Deserts. May I have the pleasure of your acquaintance?"
@[Evie]