Desert

The time had come for a talk that neither party looked forward to. Nyimara had always been an ambitious child, but as far as the old wolf was concerned, he had done well to keep that in check most her life. If it had not been for that damned Bjorn perhaps she might even have been content to be the meek little arm candy that her mother had been. He had adored her mind you, and their moments of fiesty couplation that brought about their daughter, but she had never wanted to extend her reach beyond what was already her own. It must be something Nyimara inherited in his genes.

Nyimara met the old varg at the edge of the oasis shared by the desert and the Dunes. She had rarely bothered to patrol this side of the Dunes border. It seemed almost implied that Rougaru would defend his daughter and the kingdom she found so hard to build. On this morning however, the moment she spied the battle scarred stallion pausing to drink from the muddy waters, she does not let a little thing like borders give her pause.

Irritation gleams in the wolf's golden eyes as his silver haired daughter makes her approach. Multifaceted eyes of emerald regard her with mild interest as he continues to drink his fill. Only when he is finished does he speak. "I thought you would know better by now than to merely cross my borders uninvited. Must I remind you the lessons of your youth?" he inquires, doing his best to keep the growling beast at bay as he lifts his muzzle to gaze upon her fully now.

The beast within her growls its unease at the old wolf's implied threat. She remembered all too well the hard nips and torn flesh that she had incured in her youthful days at his side. A smirk slides across her lips as Nyimara bats her long lashes at him with the mask of affection planted firmly in place. "Well one of us needed to do it. It's not like you were pacing my borders anyway. We both know this conversation is long overdue." She purrs, switching her long silver white tail slowly back and forth against her hips like a hunting mountain cat waiting for it's prey to take step closer.

Her words do not warrant an immediate response from his lips. Truthfully, he had expected this co-existance to come to a head long before now. The wolf's greying muzzle merely nods in agreement as he steps out of the shallow waters and back onto the dry, sandy bank. "Well then." he replies, cocking a single saucer-sized hoof against the hard sand as he waited for her to speak.

It was as good an oppertunity as any and Nyimara wasted no time. "You are growing old wolf, the days of your prime have passed and taken with it your oppertunity for power. You knew this the moment you left Paradise." she begins pausing a moment at the grim press of his lips. "I mean no disrespect father, merely stating the obvious. It would be wiser for you to support my claim to the throne of Salem." Again she pauses, letting her words sink in between them before continuing on, taking a step closer to brush her velvet lips against the chocolate stallion's shoulder. "You are my sire and thus any victory I achieve is your own. You will not waste into memory here, but be remembered always." she breathes, stepping back to let her dark gaze settle fully on his jade green eyes. "Between our two herds, there is nothing any of the other herds could do to stop us. Together we could achieve the greatness you dreamed of. With me as the Queen... Solomon would finally fall." there it was. Her secret weapon and the key to securing the wolf to her side.

'Solomon' The moment the name falls from her lips, the wolf is bristling. Chocolate hairs rise along his spine as the muscular stallion tenses, his lips peeling back to reveal a row of yellow-stained teeth. If it weren't for Solomon, he might have gotten what he sought. At every turn, the Tinuvel king thwarted him. Warsaw had Persephone... Rougaru had Solomon. Dark ears tip backwards, disappearing beneath the wind tattered strands of his cream and caramel mane. Years, hell it felt like centuries that the two stallions had been at odds. The very mention of his name drew the wolf to the surface. Yellow-gold eyes glitter fiercely beneath the emerald green of his own as together he and the beast rise as one, swelling with long dormant desire. "If I help you reach your goals... then you will help me to achieve mine." he growls, dropping his head as a single forelimb rakes at the dry, crusty earth beneath him, sending a plume of dust into the air around their hooves. "You will support my war against Solomon and the Cove. Regardless of what it costs you. If you can agree to that, then we have an accord.... daughter." he purrs, the last word lingering on his tongue in a way that is neither endearing or despised.

To be completely honest, Nyimara is not quite sure what to make of the old wolf's use of the word daughter. It has been years since he used such a term of endearment towards her and even as it leaves his lips now, she is not certain it is meant in that manner. Dark ears rotate backwards in a moment of suspicion but he had agreed. It was that agreement she allows herself to dwell on now. Dark eyes glitter in the bright sunlight as she dips her finely dished head. "Of course... father." she purrs, daring to reach forward again to brush her muzzle along his whiskered maw before turning once more towards the Dunes. "Do not forget your promise Nyimara." he warns to her retreating form before turning himself to search for Vanya. She would not like his news, but who knows, perhaps being Queen of the Desert was enough for her... finally.