Desert

The grey girl is the first one to speak up. Fierce independence shines in her dark set eyes as she lifts her proud head to fix the silver haired witch with her gaze. She speaks with confidence despite the youth that screams from her bones. Small mahogany ears stand at attention amid the swirling tumbles of her silver white mane as Nyimara watches her with a scrutinous gaze. Kara spoke of youth and inexperience but even in that inexperience, she could feel as well as see how much the girl wished to learn and learn she would. Satisfaction gleams in her own eyes now as she blinks in acknowledgement. A faint smile tugs at the corners of her lips as the petite woman tilts her head slightly, ”Your enthusiasm is refreshing if not a bit immature.” she breathes, pausing a moment to let her words settle between them before continuing on. ”I would not deny you the calls of nature for even I know how fierce the seasons winds can howl. It is yours to decide.” she finishes with a dismissive flick of her unusually long tail.

Vivienne remains silent as Nyimara speaks to Kara. However, even in her silence, the witch can feel the venom and anger that boils beneath her skin. Though she does her best to plaster the smile of indifference on her face, Nyimara knew it too well. Disdain, disgrace, loathing, all the emotions that had once before boiled beneath her own skin as she watched her beloved Bjorn coddle the red mare Siobhan against him with such tenderness that had only briefly been given to herself. How swiftly the attention had shifted from her delicate and graceful figure to the newest attraction that batted long lashes in his direction and played coy in his embrace. Yes. Those feelings she knew all too well and by the gods did she intend to wield them. Darkness gleams in her own eyes as she narrows her gaze on the finely dished features of her younger sibling. ’Aye aye captain.’ the only words to fall past the halfblood’s lips. Acceptance.

Paper thin nostrils flare as she follows the lithe form, watching as the painted woman disappears over the rise. Potential shone, but even that budding flower threatened to wither and wilt against the cold. Mentally, Nyimara made a note to herself to seek her out later, to cultivate and water that resentment with the nourishment of her own hatred and flames. Soon.

For now, Kara was in need of guidance. Once more her fierce gaze turns back to the grey woman with a tilt of her brow. ”Come, let us begin. The fates wait for no one.” she breathes, turning abruptly and starting back down the hill. For now, she would see what this desert rose could do. See if there really was a storm that brewed beneath the grey skin and if her own skills at battle could be passed down without much reiteration..