A slight woman approaches, leaving behind her both a trail of muddy footprints and a fine mist of what might be sand trailing off of her shoulders. At first glance you pay her no notice, thinking perhaps she's some poor homeless sot covered in filth. When she opens her mouth to speak, however, the truth becomes immediately clear.
With a deep rumble and an unexpected echo, the words hit your ears only after bouncing back off of nearby buildings. "Might a moonbeam's width be a measurement of time, rather than of space?"
she wonders aloud, before realizing that there's several other people staring pensively at the fountain, and, now, at her.
"Oh, sorry, a mountain forgets it speaks aloud. Hello. You may call me Rumble, if you ever have reason to call me anything. Are all of those bits of paper summons here from Celestria?"