It’s not like she planned to act rashly, she was well known to be a cold and calculated witch after all. However, the opportunity presented itself on a silver platter and well, who was she to refuse it. Originally, her visit to the Lagoon had been a mere recon mission. One that she was far too sensitive to send Kara on alone. What she remembered of the Lagoon and its marauder men was nothing if not primitive. Though she trusted the gray woman, she was by far the more experienced of the two and this trip was meant for stealth. So, with a final threat to Uhtred to stay put, the silver haired woman set out on her mission. It was time for the islands to remember just exactly who she was.

The swim from Salem to the main island was not overly taxing and Nyimara found herself hardly winded as she waded through the murky waters surrounding the Lagoon. Countless months of climbing up and down the sloping dunes had strengthened her legs. Muscles rippled beneath her mahogany coat as she picked her way through the watery mud and sawgrass and onto the firm soil of the maritime forest beyond. She pauses long enough to give her glossy coat a shake, ridding herself of as much mud and seawater as possible. The luxury of a good roll would have to wait until later, she did not dare put herself in such a vulnerable position here.

Once she feels certain she has rid her skin of most of the muck, she sets out with ears pressed forward and head bent low. Dark eyes scan the thick underbrush for flashes of movement. Paper thin nostrils flare as she pauses beneath a thick veil of hanging moss, utilizing the environment as she had done in the past to avoid detection from the bachelor stallions. So far, this portion of the Lagoon was strangely quiet. The herd was probably congregating closer to the northern end of the borders. ’Of course they are’ she mumbles to herself as small ears pin tightly against her skull in agitation. That would mean that she would need to go even further into the Lagoon, something that she promised herself she would never do again.

While contemplating her next course of action however, fate bestowed upon her a gift. The sounds of thrashing brush and thudding hooves draw her from the depths of her thoughts. Dark eyes find him just as the boy bursts clear of the shadows to her right. Age had changed him from a gangly little brown colt to a fine specimen of a young stallion but Nyimara would know him anywhere. The tattered ear and white rimmed scars are clear. Azizi. Shenzi’s son.

This caused her interest to peak and her sour disposition to disappear in an instant. Patches of sweat darkened his brown coat to black as he pauses breathlessly just yards in front of her. He was clearly winded and upset over something but she was not about to play the nice guy right now. She needed information and he could give it to her. The fact that he was Shenzi’s son was a mere bonus at this point.

Without another thought on the matter, she bursts from her hiding spot with head snaked low and ashen lips peeled back into a fierce snarl. A feral growl rumbles from her breast as she dives into his path to cut off his escape. ”Lets go!” she murmurs, her voice barely recognizable amid the clacking of teeth as she snaps at his muzzle and continues towards him in an effort to drive him back the way she had come. If she could just get him to the mangrove trees, the upturned roots might stall any bachelors that dared to give chase. At least, that is her hope anyway....