It was not so comforting to see Tyr’s relaxed stance as it was to see his stillness. When the shire had come for Roisin, he had never paused in his mission. Faolain was herself familiar with the tunnel-vision of a task she was determined to complete. She might become blind to all else, unable to see beyond the narrow path in her pursuit. She could not know for sure, but this was how she imagined Tyr must have proceeded as he stormed the Ridge’s beach the first time.

Now, he stood still with his hind hooves in the waves, the water rushing forward and then pulling back around his legs and swirling the thick feathers. He no longer wore blinders, Faolain thought, and as she eyed him warily, she slowly began to relax. Her own mind widened, loosening its hold on the arrowhead of her attention, allowing her to concentrate on his words instead of honing in like a missile on his movements. She was not exactly comfortable with him here, but she was relieved he had not come to continue their fight. As her anger was ebbing away (though she did try to hold onto it) her legs began to tremble with fatigue, and ever so slightly, her head lowered as her slender neck struggled to hold it up.

In spite of her growing exhaustion and awareness of her pain - which wasn’t bad, considering the battle, but she ached from the weight of her swollen belly and her body had been protesting more loudly to things that she might have ignored before the autumn, including the bumps and bruises from the match - she listened with intrigue as Tyr explained his reasons for returning. An odd mixture of emotions stirred in her chest, and sparked to life as he concluded and Faolain got the whole picture. She was awake again, though her eyes ached to close and her knees longed to buckle into the soft sand, and her nostrils flared with excitement.

In part, Faolain was furious. She closed her jaws tight around her rage, biting it back with practiced control, though of course her anger had taken on the form of a different beast lately and it was often much harder to keep reigned in. Still, she was determined, for Tyr’s words weren’t entirely loathsome. She did not even have to debate with herself before she gave her answer, although her words tasted vile even before she responded.

Up until this time, Faolain had not moved a muscle. She was certain Tyr could see the flash of anger in her copper eyes, but she was not sure she would have wanted to hide that anyway. Slowly, she nodded her chiseled head, considering.

Beneath her fury, there were plenty other emotions vying for her attention. Primarily there was relief, that Roisin could be returned unharmed, and that Cullen was gone from the Lagoon. In addition, Faolain was genuinely surprised at the naked honesty Tyr showed her, especially in contrast to her first impression of him. She appreciated it, but it was not enough to let her fully dispel her anger. He had still taken an innocent member of the Ridge, albeit not one of Faolain’s own herd but still under her protection. She wondered if every other interaction this stallion had experienced had necessitated violence before a discussion could take place, and the thought helped her make some sense of his actions.

Finally, she spoke.

“Fine,” she said. She did not have to elaborate - Tyr knew the weight of his terms, and Faolain was certain he was aware of how thoroughly she was cornered.

All at once, it seemed as though her exhaustion took hold of her, and she could no longer fuel the anger that had consumed her at Tyr’s proposal. Faolain released a deep sigh, and unbeknownst to her, her front legs buckled. Gently, she sank to the sand, though her head remained proudly aloft, ears turned toward Tyr. She did not think he would hurt her, not now, at least. She realized she found no shame in her collapse - she doubted she could hide the enormous protest her body was staking against her, and to give up trying was a relief.

“I accept your terms,” she said. “I will not bargain with Roisin’s freedom, but I will ask of you a few favors. You are free to disregard them - I have no leverage, but if you are honorable, I trust you will at least consider them.” She tucked her legs more comfortably about her rounded barrel, finding that the sand was far more forgiving on her aching body than she would have guessed. “First, I hope you will wait until I am no longer with foal before you return with your family. I will feel more comfortable and more able to protect my family. I cannot enforce this, I only hope you keep it in mind. You won’t have to wait long; another few weeks at most.

“Second,” she said, looking up at him again. Her eyes burned with a dark gold fire, some of the rage rekindled, but no longer directed at the shire stallion. “If Nyimara is still in the Lagoon, I would very much like to know that she will never set hoof on these shores again. Whatever that takes.” She did not explain further. Either Tyr would do for her this favor, or he would not. With that, the black ‘Teke let out another long, slow sigh. Her anger had fled at this point, and she looked up at Tyr with only tired resignation. She wondered what he would think of her terms; she suspected he might find them ridiculous, but it did not matter. So long as Roisin made it home.