Common

Nyimara had not intended to leave the Dunes so soon after her victory over the bachelor stallions. No doubt the kniving men would be pacing about her borders like hungry coyotes the moment her back was turned. They would be sure to not give up their marauder without another fight. The Dunes might have its ideal spots for surveying them but truthfully, she and Kara could only do so much to keep the borders protected. If things continued to go the way she planned, there would be more need of patrols and only so long before lack of sleep started making her sloppy. She needed more bodies. She needed more members of her herd, more protection. Had she thought less with her lust-filled emotions, she would have done more to curve her interest in stallions this season. However the dark sooty stallion that had bumped into her during the sandstorm had been too appealing and his words silky smooth. His silken tongue and dark eyes coupled with her own vivid imagination and primal urges had resulted in quite a few hours spent wrapped in one another’s embrace. No doubt her sides would soon begin to swell with unborn child in the coming months. This too would limit her ability to monitor the expanse of her new territory.

The fact was simple, if she wanted to build her empire, she would need to start somewhere. As dawn’s rosy hues begin to give way to the bright blue skies of late morning, Nyimara takes to the channel of ocean waters that separate Salem and the Crossing Isle. She would not stay too long this time, Kara and Uhtred would need her help locating the hidden oasis in the canyon on the western end of the Dunes. Likewise, she did not trust Rehoboam to stay put without constant supervision. He was young enough that he might prove to be a challenge for Kara’s inexperience and Nyimara was not willing to let her leverage over the Lagoon slip through her grasp.

She skirts around the eastern edge of the Lagoon borders, her proud head lifted and a lofty prance to her gait. She did not miss the eyes that lingered on her with venom and hatred, it was a glance she had grown quite used to and very fond of. Hatred. But the bachelor patrols do not approach her and she does not bother to linger close enough to draw them near, she had no use for them right now. No, her destination lay beyond and she was not willing to waste time..

As she draws further and further away from the Lagoon, the dense maritime forest begins to thin out. The thick water oaks draped with spanish moss disappear and instead are replaced with narrow pines and slender birch trees. Red-orange leaves crunch beneath her hooves as the silver haired woman enters the commons. She would start here and work her way towards the falls, searching for new and unfamiliar faces to bribe, flatter or trick into becoming a pawn in her growing kingdom in the sand. If she had not found anyone by the time she made it to the falls then she would stop long enough to quench her thirst before returning to Salem. But, as luck would have it, she does not have to search long to find exactly what she is looking for.

As was usual, the commons are bustling with activity. She can hear the muffled chatter of mares and their giggling suitors even before she managed to break past the shadows that the tree canopy produced. Despite herself, ears fall backwards in disgust but it does not stop her forward progress. She had been there once, naive and untainted by the islands. Not anymore. Secretly she hopes that the sight of her lithe russet body and feminine curve of her hip might draw the gaze of one or more suitors. Of course she has no need for them, not like the giggling mares did, but still, the daggered glares from jealous women was rather appealing. If you got it, flaunt it.

As she steps clear of the treeline, the prance of her dancing gait stills as she slows to a purposeful walk. Dark eyes scan the scene that surrounds her but does not immediately see anything that draws her interest. At least, not until he moves into the sunlight himself.

Dark ears lift as the movement of his body draws her attention. He is a handsome specimen with long legs and no obvious limp or defect. Even with the late autumn draw, he does not circle around susceptible mares like the other vultures. Instead he stands alone, surveying the scene before him like some great king from a distant land. Were she the same young naive mare that Bjorn found many years ago, she might have fallen victim to the quickened flutter of her heart. Not the Dune queen. Her interest is peaked nonetheless and with a flick of her silver tail she turns towards him. Long, chocolate neck arches, pressing the ashen velve of her muzzle firmly against her petite breast as once more her gait summons the confident prance that accents her sultry hips and defined muscles. Long, dark lashes blink slowly over depthless eyes as she draws alongside him with a huff of breath against his skin and fleeting brush of her shoulder against his hip. She does not apologize for intruding, nor does she immediately assault him with demands or questions. Instead, she turns her gaze away from him and drops her muzzle to graze in companionable silence. Her claim is clear to any onlookers should they bother to interrupt. This one was hers.

Once she is sure that enough silence had built up between them to draw his own curiosity, she lifts her muzzle and offers him a coy grin, tilting her head to ensnare him in her sharp gaze. ”Enjoying the view? They can be quite entertaining this time of year.” she coos, her usually venomous tones dripping with sarcasm and honey sweet. She tosses her muzzle in the direction of the other occupants of the commons and the muffled conversations that they are lost in. A wry smile tugs the corners of her lips upwards, ”If you stand here long enough, maybe you can pick up a new catch phrase or two” she continues. Lifting her head now, she turns her head to fix him fully with her gaze, a single brow raising, ”Or do you already have some that havent been used before? Might be worth your while to try your luck”.