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Thundersnow was unusual alright. The bright flashes of lighting cutting through the dark like veins was more than welcomed on any occasion by the sleek foal that was currently trudging through the powder-like inches. Of course, it would be much better if the cold was from a chilled rain and she could feel and hear the sloshing of water around her ankles. Storms were wonderful and soaked thunder storms made them more exciting. More... dangerous. Surely her sister could agree with her on that, though their timid brother might have declined.

As she moved through the snow, comforted by the low and distant rumbles, excited by the closer ones, Dark Water noticed an outcropping and, beneath it, somephony as small as her. Normally the urge to avoid these sickeningly sweet colts and fillies was great, and that was her first instinct here, but a bright flash of lightning brought her attention to the appearance of this one and she gave pause. As always her face was calm and blank as she took in his unique features then, and she realized quite quickly that he was unlike them in almost every way. He was messed up. He was interesting. He was better.

"Hello," she murmured in the silence between rumbles as she approached, "Enjoying the weather?"

Dark Water's calm blue eyes followed the stitched up colt as he briefly ascended then fell back down. With the different colors and the medical precision of the stitches, it almost seemed like his wings belonged to a different phony. Interesting.

"I don't mind getting soaked," she mused coolly, then glanced down at the rims of white surrounding her hooves, "I just prefer when it's melted."

With that, the filly took Wicked up on his offer. She trotted her way beneath the overhang, keeping her distance from him by a foot or so, and lightly tapped her hooves of snow on the nearby wall. "You like seeing and hearing the storm?" her voice kept a constant air of nonchalance and Dark Water's consistently neutral expression told no different, but that was not truly the case. Inside her mind was sparking, scrutinizing and studying this other phony. Everyone else she met had been so... disgustingly exuberant, besides her siblings. If this one was true to the vibes he was giving off, perhaps she ought to introduce her brother and sister to him sometime.

The more Wicked Stitch spoke, the more Dark Water wondered if he was stuttering and pausing naturally, because of the cold, or perhaps socializing intimidated him. Her younger brother was someone like that; timid, quiet. Dark Water looked at him as he spoke, keeping her mouth closed and listening to what he had to say rather than waiting for her turn to speak. It was certainly a comparison she'd never heard before. The storms certainly didn't scare her, or maybe they did in the same way they scared him -- the neat, exciting way.

"No," she stated simply. For a moment she paused as she gauged his reaction. Dark Water stepped nearer to the edge of the outcropping and looked up to the foggy, snowy sky to watch the distant lights. "A little messy, maybe. I think... you're talking about synapses, right? In the sky's brain?" The black foal let out a quiet hum in thought. "I'd always imagined lightning was the sky's anger, the thunder its howls of pain. Rain, its sadness. Maybe it's all of those things. Thoughts and dreams, fury and sorrow."

Again she listened. Her eyes scanned the clouds, flicking to whatever part of them brightened for a moment. Dark Water stood calmly and alert, not a sign of a shiver on her body but certainly the white plumes of breath.

"Is it...?" she murmured under her breath, visual attention still not returned to him. "I know anger... I've never known it to feel better after." No, her anger was quiet, not thunderous, and it was ever present, not gone in a violent outburst. Dark Water finally turned back to Wicked Stitch and raised her brows curiously. "Have you ever felt better after an angry storm?"

Perhaps this would be key: it didn't seem like those bright and sickeningly sweet phonies could show any real emotion, only exhausting exuberance or a soft demure kindness. Both tired Dark Water and her sister equally, though she supposed the latter wasn't entirely unpleasant. Till now, though, it felt like only she and her siblings could feel anything raw; sadness and anger were real, they were visceral, and they were ever present -- now finally another phony was acknowledging those emotions.

As the composite pegasus explained in his slow, timid way, Dark Water considered him with a slight incline of her head. She took in each word, the next more important than the last, and though visibly it likely looked as if she were disinterested, perhaps even staring him down, she was digesting all of it.

"No one?" Could have fooled her, there didn't seem to be a time when most other phonies weren't happy. Then again, that was one of many key factors in why she and her siblings often stayed away from them. "Maybe you're right..."

"You know," she murmured, glancing back to the still rumbling sky, "I wasn't expecting conversation this worthwhile. You're surprisingly insightful." It was interesting to hear another one's point of view on real issues, not this paltry friend count that most others seem so obsessed with. "What's your name?"

"Dark Water," she returned, tilting her head in appraisal. Wicked Stitch was certainly a fitting name for this one, but she supposed he was far from the traditional use of the word 'wicked'. That was fine; not everyone had to be cruel to avoid aligning themselves with the sick sweetness that overpowered Phonyland. Even her kind and soft spoken brother was not so disgustingly overpowering as most, and for this she greatly appreciated Wicked Stitch's company; she saw a lot of her brother in him.

"Where do you live? So we can talk again." Yes, she liked this one. She hoped her brother and sister would, too.

Dark Water shook her head blankly at the question. She'd never heard of either of them, though instantly their names made her think of nothing less than pretentious phonies. And food. Why did so many phonies take up names relating to food? Dark looked the slightest bit uncertain at the mention of their foals, whether she would like them or not was no easy thing to assume or suggest. After a second, understanding set in and her face returned to the same blank slate. He didn't have parents.

"...You're like us," she breathed quietly, brows lifting subtly and opening her calm blues a little more as she looked at the stitched phony before her in a new light.