The woman listened to what he said quietly and critically. Occasionally her ears flicked one way or the other. She looked over at her son. Evil created both males in front of her. One had been raised and expected to be nothing, the other had briefly been moment from being dust at her own hand. Nephiliam was growing into something. He himself promised, right before her eyes, that he would become something. His name would be known. Those who had turned away from him would know what he was to become. Her head turned to Tithe. The world would know his name, too. She would make sure of it. Whether it had been fate or chance, the lives of the two stallions collided and the would walk the same path.

Ambition sparked once more in her heart. I only raise kings. His words brought her again to the present and the place. A smirk grew on her dark lips and for a moment she reveled in the smug feeling he brought. Amaranthe was not a mare to sit idly by. Chosen leader or no, she would have her say, until proven that another would do it better. She nodded her understanding about the previous mare of the land. Respect had to be given where it was due. If the other mare challenged for her place, or even non-violently stepped forward to lead, the friesian lady would hear her out. She was not unreasonable; and was Nephiliam said, a herd needed to be strong.

She thought and considered for a moment. Letting out a breath, she ran her nose over her son and sent him off into the waves and the beach again. Fearing he was going to miss something important the young colt protested softly for a moment until her snort was more authoritative and he grudgingly left to stomp in the tides.

I do have a request. Her voice was flat and void. If you ever have the opportunity to challenge a stallion named Fallo, please let me or my son deal a blow. Her tail swished, releasing some of the anger towards her attacker that had been laying dormant. And only when he has something to destroy. The void that had been her words grew bitter and she stamped her foot at the thought, wishing the dust were the lagoon bastard. Shaking her head, she calmed herself, this was about Nephiliam, he was the one who was limping his way onto the beach. Otherwise, I will happily stand by your side as you make this herd grow.

AMARANTHE

MARE :: FRIESIAN :: 15.3hh :: BLACK