The world outside their liquid depths tore itself apart time and time again. They waged wars and ripped each other to tatters for the sake of ruling the dry lands. They squabbled over such miniscule plots of soil when the ocean expanded so much more far and wide. On the occasion, one of the Beqannians with sacred abilities would dare steal a glance at the thick depths beneath but even those blessed with gills could not withstand the choking pressure. Elizaveta sometimes amused herself with their struggles to reach just beyond their grasp but she did so just beyond the kelp beds and rock formations.

Th waters were especially chilly with the press of deep currents. The pale mare finds herself prickled by the cold but she does not allow it to cross her expression. Some others had gathered lately and Elizaveta felt a slow crawl of curiosity to see Queen Tsilutsuli. She wonders how the monarchy was dealing with the rupture in their lands (if any at all). At least in these depths, the vibration of scaled bodies were easy to trace. The tattooed mare decides to part the waters to gather with her fellow citizens and partake in the chatter. It would be nice to socialize a bit and to see familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. Elizaveta allows a smirk to slide over her pale lips as she pushed a little faster as shadows loomed ahead that silhouetted other Baltians.