To say she was torn would be an understatement. She was ripped apart. She knew Bjorn wished to keep the Ridge from dealing with the war that had been seasons in the making. It was Bjorn who had planted the fanciful seed in Warsaw's head but Nyimara was not ready to place the blame solely upon the bear king. Warsaw had hungered for power long before her king came into power this she knew herself. He was like father, hungry for power and glory and no doubt the idea of a war just made sense, especially considering what father had mentioned of his hatred for the forest queen. Nyimara could have cared less to be honest, the forest herd had never harmed her or even gave even the slightest inclination that they were even aware of her existence.

No. The only thing she cared about, well... one of the few things that she cared for deeply was her commitment to her sire. While most relationships between parents and offspring dwindled and disappeared as the years progressed, Nyimara's bond with Rougaru was not one of them. Grant it he did not dote on her as she sometimes wished he would, still he adored her and she him. He did not abandon her when mother died. Instead he stuck close to her side, encouraged her and taught her the ways of the world... the ways of his world. The depth of her devotion rivaled only with her newfound affections with Bjorn. Nonetheless she had left the Ridge with the intent to aide father and dispel any anger he might feel in the bear king's withdrawal.

She does not linger upon the shores as any other time she might have preferred. Luthien is an unfamiliar island and were it another time and place she could easily find herself lost on some unknown trail following the many sights and sounds. However the sounds that ring clear tonight is that of warring islanders. She had made the journey at Rougaru's side, treading water with ease through the rolling waters. He had smiled at her, a genuine show of affection shared between the two and encouraged her to be on her guard. Of that she intended. Sigurdr and Bjorn waited back home and she had no plans on leaving them alone more than necessary. Not with the likes of Tigerlily and Ysabel lingering in the shadows.

Like the rolling waves the warriors washed upon the shores, met with screams of resistance by the island dwellers. Ears flit atop her skull, shifting through the throng of voices for familiar sounds. Deep auburn ooids scan the moon dappled shadows of the forest, beckoning for a glimpse of a familiar face. There. The flash of white and black, a proudly arched neck. Monster. Abba's lead. Nostrils quiver as she follows the fleeting form with her gaze until again sights fall upon her sire in the gathering storm. As promised he fought with the vicious determination of the wolf, devouring those in its path with the bloodlust hunger that flickered like a dying ember in her breast. She did not share in his lust for battle... not in this fight.

Then a familiar scream rises above the throng. Against her peripheral she catches sight of an all to familiar face.... Tigerlily. Muscles tense beneath coffee colored skin as she follows the mare's gaze... a gaze that focused upon her abba.

"No!" she bugles, leaping forward with limbs a blur beneath her. Fury swelled in her soul now, the monster's warring for control that she long withheld from them. Small cupped ears lace tight against skullcap, burying beneath the thick layer of silver white tendrils streaming behind her. She is upon them in a few extended strides, not daring to slow for fear that the buckskin mare might catch Rougaru off guard. With a final bunch of muscles she leaps at the white faced woman, plowing with all the strength she could muster into the mare's side, hoping to knock the breath from her lungs. It would be to much to hope Tigerlily would fly sideways, toppled by the force of Nyimara's sudden attack but she cannot help but to hope in the very least that the attack would leave her winded with bruised ribs. The force of her charge leave her stumbling over the sandy earth, staggering upon bended knees. Teeth clack behind her jaws as she fixates her anger, her hatred, her jealousy upon the buckskin mare. "Stay away from my abba you witch. Your fight is with me!" she snarls rising with head lowered like a wolf on the prowl. She can feel the hatred burning through her skin now, rising the sleek hairs along her spine with the same fierce determination that had once set her sights upon Bjorn. It was time to end this once and for all.