The chill of the wind that cuts into Xiomara as she stands there, is almost enough to slice away her resolve. Doubt quickly follows her call, wondering if Ironclad would even come to her. Though she did not fear the Inlet Queen; their battle had been so close then, and Xiomara was more experienced now, that she almost dared Vita Nova to come instead. But not only did the memory of the mare remind Xiomara she was not welcome here, the cold did as well. Long gone was the thick coat that once protected her, as did the cold-hearted woman the carried it. Xiomara felt broken, her body wishing to succumb to the shivering wanting to crawl up her spine. Just as she was about to shrink back into the waves, her eyes fell upon the racing form of Ironclad, and her resolution was quickly returned.


Standing straight, as if unaffected by the cold despite her slick skin, she waits for the young stallion to reach her. As he does, his greeting words cause her ears to briefly fall back before pushing forward. He looks around as if he expected a monster to jump out at them any moment. And in this devil’s territory, it very well might.


“You have not come to see me.” she stated calmly, her icy gaze noticing how he won’t meet her own. “I have missed you.” Ironclad had been the one to visit her the last two times, should it not be her turn? That was not truly the reasoning behind her visit, but it was the one she would play on. The hurt he had seen in her eyes were for so many different things, but the strong warrior woman dared not share them and break her image.