Her unease is not lessened by the childish behavior of the younger stallion, and the lean muscles of her haunches tensed as she prepared for the need to flee. Even as he seemed to make his excuses and get ready to leave, she did not relax, especially not as another stallion joined the conversation.

Isla's glare snapped to the dun stallion as soon as he entered the conversation, her already flattened ears lifting a fraction of an inch just to press down again as if in emphasis. She shifted warily, moving herself equidistant from both of them, her forehand still warily pointed in their directions. As much as the season had her alternately craving and loathing the idea of a male companion, she had zero desire to bring a child into this world as a Lagoon captive. The thought of any foal growing up here, being influenced by these brutes, made her sick to her stomach.

She couldn't help but scoff at Isengrim's rudeness, her lips curling into a malicious smirk that made her feel even less like herself. She hated that she liked seeing him uncomfortable, that she liked seeing both of them uncomfortable. Like she'd sold a piece of her soul for this angry armor she wore, and would never again see that soft part of her heart again.

"Oh yes," she snarled the words harsh in her mouth, saturated with dripping sarcasm. "What lass wouldna want to spend their days locked up with men who wouldna' know a manner if it bit them in the arse." Which was patently unfair considering how Nahawi had greeted her, but her glare chased Isengrim. The two stallions bickered between themselves and Isla took another step back, hoping that Nahawi would take the bait and follow the flippant young stallion to defend himself.

The last thing she wanted as someone pretending to care about her now. She knew what season it was, and she knew without a doubt that any stallion's interest would be fleeting. If they'd really cared, they would have sought her out much sooner.