Though time had passed, with Hellene tending to their wounds, some things could not be easily fixed. The others had began to heal - Dakota, and Rodan, and even the Queen herself. Perhaps their wounds were closed, with scars marking their bodies... But Nimueh's own wounds were still agape. Her muscle had finally begun to pull itself together, thin sinew acting as suture... But as she moved, this very muscle was still visible in its entirety - its tendons and attachments. She had stumped Hellene, who had tried everything she knew to increase the healing process... And so the healer instead had resulted to focusing instead on keeping Nimueh's injuries healthy until her body caught up to where it should be. Thus far, she had been successful - each day, her wounds were cleaned, and poulticed plants with antimicrobial properties were pushed into her wounds and she had to bite back a cry from the immense pain of it all. But this was nothing that she was new to, but instead something that had plagued her for the entirety of her life. If infection did not set in, she would eventually heal. Skin would eventually pull together, her flimsy tissue fixed at last - but it would take a lot longer until she was at that point.

And when her auds flickered forward, catching the Queen's vocals, Nimueh trotted off to wherever they had originated from, her left front leg stiffening. Her weight fell hard on her right front leg with each stride, telling obviously her lameness. She was not one to show her weaknesses... But in her current state there was nothing that could be done to hide it. For fuck's sake, her flesh was flailed open - anyone with eyes could see that she was injuries. Anyone with a pair of nares could smell the blood that occasionally seeped down her pelt. Despite the pain though.. She did not stop or cease in her motion, but rather she furrowed her brow and quickened her pace. Along the way, she snatched a bite - a bit of poppy to ease her pain. The ess was not one who normally sought to lessen her experiences in the world, but Nimueh had no desire to cause Dante worry. For that was not her job, not her role. Nimueh had an overtly obvious sexuality to her, perhaps not as much now with her gaping wound, but she flirted and was sweet, and distracted others from the troubles of life. It would be wrong to call her a whore, for she did not do it as a job... But it would be a lie to say she was not promiscuous.

Colorless eyes swept the land, searching for the Queen. She found her attractive, alluring... And had a personality and desires to match her physical attributes. She wanted to make a safe haven for her little sister, and better herself. After the fight with the bear she had cared about those injured... Nimueh had no doubt that the Ethiopian Queen would bear her crown well and prove to be a good choice for leader upon the throne. But as for affections? When Nimueh got down to the nitty gritty part of her mind and was serious about her heart, she truly could not say if any romantic emotions were present. She was attracted to her, yes, and desired her... But Nimueh desired many others as well, it was not a unique feeling to the Queen - of this, she would be honest. Was there a chance that eventually, such things would develop? Possibly... But it was also possible that they wouldn't. When finally her pupils landed upon Dante, Nimueh smirked and paused, taking the chance to fully appreciate Dante's form from behind. The dainty Iberianess changed her path so that she would come up on the Queen's left side so that she would not see that Nimueh was still injured... For how could she explain it in simple terms? Daintily put together bodice and limbs glided over the land as smoothly and as silently as she could. Bracing her form, she did what she could to stop limping and slid her way next to the Queen, nares slipping under the mandible of the Queen with a purr, their hairs intermingling. "You called, beauty?"