There is a thin veil of jealousy that colors her vision now as she watches with feigned lack of interest as Warsaw geets the mares who approach him with what one could call warmth. She watches as the mares appear as if from the mists themselves, bright eyed and doe like innocence, prancing before him. The one mare, the one he calls his queen recieved the most attention and though Nova doubted that she would ever find herself eager to be the center of his attention it is clear that there is a sort of commeradery that is shared between the two. It gives the lithe woman an immediate sense of distaste for the one he called Vita Nova. It was clear that the distain is mutual for the way the dark woman met her gaze with a smug expression of her own. Tiny perked ears flex backwards, burying themselves beneath the thick mantle of her obsidian curls as Nova lifts her own finely shaped head higher and with a flick of her tail makes a point to turn her back upon the queen and those gathered.

This was not her herd. This was not where her heart lay. A heavy sigh escapes her lungs as she trudges through the hock deep grasses to stand just beyond the reach of the pebbled shore. Silver blue eyes gaze hungrily towards the distant islands, her mind escaping into memories made and hopes that her son's future looked far brighter than her own. Perhaps one day she would escape... but for now, for now Warsaw kept far to close a watch to give her any sense of freedom.... but even that could not last forever.