He had chosen her.

All the rage, all the fury had burned through her then. A myriad of emotions all channeled into a single form. She was tormented. Furious at the loss that burned like a hole in the pit of her stomach. Her relationship with Bjorn shook like the tattered remnants of shaken palms in the wake of a storm. She had longed to feel the curve of his neck against her own, longed to tuck her small dished fascade into the strong curve of his jaw as she once had an to hear him whisper sweet nothings from his pink lips. She had wanted to feel the strength of his icy blue gaze in hungry desperation as he drank in the curve and contours of her figure as they danced carefree and fearlessly along the cliff-face. She wanted to watch with amused pride as he matched each stride she took with one of his own, his smokey blue skin brushing the faintest of touches against her now. She had wanted much... but the beast appeared.

She turned her venom on him, and he too turned his upon her, like great beasts they clashed with sharpened claws drawn. They had seperated, but not been mended.

Ears perk forward as the first to respond is an unfamiliar face. Depthless auburn ooids gaze at the mare's own as she dips her head in a polite greeting. It made Nyimara smile. Her proud head inclines towards Siobhan in welcome, a taunt smile upon her own teacup muzzle. "It is a pleasure to meet you Siobhan. You must still be relatively new here are you not?" she inquires, her words drawn silent as the sounds of approaching hoof fall bring her gaze upon Bjorn. She does not say it, but her dark eyes glitter with the same displeasure that focuses his icy gaze upon her.

What have you done.

He meets her gaze with challenge and she takes a single step towards him. A cheshire smile plays upon her lips. He knew very well what she had done. She had told him what she would do. His daggered words that pierced her heart would not fell her now.

A creamy mare appears next, her dark locks from the timid smile upon her lips and Nyimara draws her gaze away from Bjorn to return the smile with one of her own. A sure smile. A proud smile. Kalayani. She would remember these names. She may have lost her bond with Bjorn for the moment but this was proof enough that her efforts were not in vain. Not entirely anyway.

Another mare appears, a young filly at her side. She spits venom in her words, her gaze hard as she sidles up beside Bjorn as though she expects him to protect her. It was probably the safest place for her to be. The young girl nudges her mother to quiet her but it is enough resentment to rise Nyimara up. Sleek chocolate colored neck arches elegantly as a mischievous smile plays across her delicate features. "I am sure she will be along shortly rest assured." she breathes, dark eyes lingering evenly upon the clydesdale mare. For a moment there is mere silence seperating them all, a confused suspicion hangs in the air and it would be cruel to leave them in suspense for long.

A fleeting gaze roams over the friendlier faces of Siobhan and Kalayani before hard eyes settle on Elvira. "For those who do not know me. I am Nyimara. Mother of Sigurdr... and queen of the Ridge." she pauses a moment, unusually long tail of silver white threads flicking idly back and forth against her flanks as she continues, her gaze turning on Bjorn, determination now. He would see her. He would love her. "Ysabel was a weak queen. The foals were taken because of that and I shall not see it happen again. Ysabel and I.... came to an understanding." she finishes placing the mask of indifference firmly in place.