Not all who wander are lost; Posted on September 10, 2020 at 01:19:20 AM by Nyimara
Nyimara often wondered why it was that acceptance from her beloved bear king meant so much to her. It was not just his adoring eyes or the hunger that fed in every fiber of their primal relations, but the need to be foremost in his mind always, that drove her to the depths of depravity and beyond. Perhaps it had all started in her youth. The way mother coddled her close, afraid that even the slightest breeze would sweep her away into oblivion. Nyimara had not been her first foal born, but she was the only one that had survived for more than a season or two. On occasion she remembered asking Rougaru why it was that her mother never allowed her to go off gallivanting over the hills and meadows with the other foals that they came upon, or why she seemed to make such a fuss over the child filly wanting to race the meadows under moonlight. Always the black mare had a reason to keep her. It was always Rougaru who played the mediator. As much as Nyimara adored the praises of her mother, it was always Rougaru's intervention, as sparse as it had been, that allowed her the freedom to taste the wilds as a carefree filly. It was not until the dark mare's sudden demise that Nyimara started to realize just how much she had grown to miss the random moments of praise.
Bjorn used to shower her with praise. When first their meeting on the common isle, his gaze had been more than the mere primal hunger and shared desires that bound them now. It had been innocence on her part, unfamiliar to the cunning of the male gender and unblemished by the stains of age and depravity. She was a foolish girl then, thinking that all it took was faith and loyalty to keep a stallion close. It was that filly who slowly began to disappear as the days in the Ridge passed. Siobhan’s presence marked the end of that childish creature. The day the red mare washed up upon her shores with Bjorn and Sigurdr trailing behind like lovesick puppies had been enough to crush watered flickering flame lingered. The girl was gone. In her place, Nyimara had learned to get what she desired she must be cunning. It was her strength that brought Alill to his knees that day on the shores of the Ridge. It was her determination that glared upon Siobhan with uncontrolled rage and hatred. She would learn. By the gods and fates of the world, the red woman would learn.
Nyimara cannot lie. Amusement curls through the caged beast in the same manner a pleased mountain cat might find a purr rumbling from its own dark depths. Obsidian hooves clench the slush churned soil underfoot and she finds herself imagining them claws tugging the earth beneath her with muscles coiling and uncoiling on command. SIobhan's soft squeal and the quickness with which she shies away from the chocolate queen's blunt teeth is enough to sate some of the lust for vengeance that twists like a thorny rose around her soul. Siobhan's pain. She needed to feel that pain she herself felt.
Ears fold backward beneath the thick mantle of silver and white threads that crown her brow. Dark eyes narrow in hatred as ash dusted labrums peel back from ivory fangs in a venomous snarl. For a moment, the slightest of moments, she allows the pain to bleed through the mirror of her eyes. Beneath the veil of hatred and shadow, stood the small filly who desperately sought love and approval. And then it is gone. Once more the mask of indifference falls into place upon her delicately chiseled features. Pale lashes blink slowly over dark eyes, shoving away the emotions that ran raw through her veins. Taunt muscles roll beneath mahogany brown skin as the silver haired queen turns her gaze from Siobhan now, searching through the lands of frost and snow as though her very thoughts might summon the smokey blue gray stallion into appearing. "I want his heart."
The words are spoken in hushed tones, the quiet driving her conviction to depths of their meaning. She wanted his heart. Never before had she wanted something so much, than to gain his complete and total admiration, adoration and affections. Completely.
Sigurdr's approach marked quickly turned her demeanor and once more the mask of innocence falls into place as his questioning eyes turn to her. She opens her mouth to murmur hushed nothings when Siobhan speaks laying the truth before the feet of the chimera prince. Dark eyes narrow as lips peel back from pale teeth. Small dark ears bury beneath the thick mantle of silver hairs that tumble haphazardly down the sloping arch of her neck. Damn her. The beast screamed its need to score her flesh again, to reprimand her with tooth and nail. She wanted to taste the salt from the red woman's hide upon her tongue and savor the metallic flavor of her blood as it pooled between her teeth.
Sigurdr.
The boy's adoration of Siobhan was plainly written on his face amid the confusion and unease, Nyimara does not miss the hope and excitement that the red mare's presence drew from him. Though she had tried to mend the bond since his and Bjorn's disappearance into the jungle those many months ago. His capture, and then likewise her own, had secured a rift between herself and her firstborn. She had hoped that the new home in the island of Tinuvel would do much to resolve that. It was clear however that Siobhan would forever hold a special place of endearment, regardless of her effort; but she was not ready yet to give up.
Pale lashes blink slowly over dark eyes as once more her finely sculpted features turn to blink affectionately at Sigurdr. A warm grin spread across her dark labrums as she glares darkly at Siobhan. "Nicely put Siobhan... so eloquently that you paint me into the menace. I was merely looking out for our family... retrieving those who chose to remain lost." she murmured, fighting to keep the growl from her lungs. "At least I wanted to stay with my family... not abandon them and act as though they never existed. Admit it to him Siobhan... you did not care enough about him to want to stay." she voiced, lifting her head a bit higher now, letting her dark eyes fall heavily upon the red woman. A Cheshire grin curling the corner's of her dark lips up in the beginnings of a smile.
OOC: HTML to come later. Erin okayed the post between via Discord :-) Replies: There have been no replies.