The strange woman seems friendly enough to Frida, extending her own muzzle out until their noses brush in greeting, warm breaths mingling. She smells like the jungle, cloaked in the scent of moist dirt and sweet nectar and rain. Frida wonders again just how long this mare managed to stay hidden right under her nose - perhaps her shorter stature helped - but brushes it off with an idle flick of her ear as her newfound companion speaks of the previous queen and the recent change in regime.

"Yes, that was Skogsrå, my niece." Frida informs the painted mare, giving a disappointed shake of her head, pale tendrils of her mane whispering against the golden arch of her neck. "I have no clue what caused her to leave, but that side of my family has apparently always been the mysterious-running-off-in-the-night sort." At this the Paradise queen gave her closest approximation to a shrug, as if dismissing the topic altogether. Freya had told her plenty about Dogun and Bjorn and their homeland in the far north - farther north even than Tinuvel - that they would sometimes steal off to with no rhyme or reason. Frida had always found it unfair that her mother had to deal with their constant comings-and-goings, and liked to think of them as a separate family entirely. Freya had been hopeful, the last time Bjorn and his flock had appeared, that they would stay for good this time. Just as she had hoped every other time. But yet again fate did not see fit to grant her wish, and they had disappeared once more. Frida tries not to let annoyance wriggle under her pale skin at the thought.

The smoke-and-ivory mare introduces herself as Bathsheba, eliciting a polite nod from the palomino. "Nice to meet you Bathsheba. You may stay as long as you like, I won't make you or your child leave your home." It would be nice, too, to have another face around that wasn't Ender's annoyingly smug one. It's hard to tell from her interaction with Bathsheba, short as it has been, if she is open to making friends, but Frida plows forward with all the confidence befitting a young queen, motioning to the jungle behind her with her muzzle. "You must know every nook and cranny if you grew up here. Have your ancestors always lived on Atlantis, or do you have family on other islands?"