The winter in Tinuvel had taken its toll upon the Inlet queen. Despite her best attempts at keeping close to Siobhan, she found herself drifting further and further away with the passing of the season. Only evenings found her dark gaze seeking out the red woman again and again just to ensure that she remained. She wanted her to feel the pain of separation. Now, even she knew that it was not Siobhan's fault that Bjorn disappeared, but the fact that the red mare had so easily displaced her in his eyes... well that was enough to make her want to woman to feel loss.

However, as the days pass, and morning and evening bring with it no signs of Bjorn's return on the horizon, Nyimara begins to feel the familiar pit of emptiness seeping into her skin. However, unlike the seasons before on the Ridge, Nyimara is determined not to make the same mistake as before. Despite the heavy swinging of her foal-laden belly, dawns find her on the move, her wide hips swaying with each carefully placed step. Bjorn's shores would not go unguarded. Not while blood still pulsed through her veins.

However, as the days of pregnancy draw to a close, Nyimara finds her attention drifting further and further away from the red mare. She did not miss the woman's trail over the border into the bay, nor did she not notice the pale twins that clung close to her side upon her return. She wanted to find her teeth upon the red woman's shoulder again. To taste the metallic flavor of her blood upon her tongue, her growing rage and anger at Bjorn's absence festers within.

The peel of laughter draws her dark gaze towards the shore where the two small fillies frolicked in the shallow waves as they gathered along the shoreline. Ears fold backwards as dark eyes fall upon the red outline of Siobhan's spotted form and absently she lifted her own finely dished skull in defiance. Let her rot and waste away into the nothing that Nyimara had once found herself in. She deserved it.

Sigurdr.

Thick silver-white tendrils snap audibly against her arching neck as her eldest once more comes to mind. The look of horror on his face and the pain that her confession gave him was enough to stall her steps. It is only the flash of Alill and Ysabel's golden coats that draw her mind from the abyss that threatens to overwhelm her. A scream of rage resounds from her lungs as viciously she strikes out a forelimb in contempt. However the drop of the foal in her belly hindered her movements moreso than she imagined it might.

Her gait is haunted and the jarring movement is enough to send sharp stabs of pain gripping her body. Dark ears fold back beneath the flowing curls of her mane as the mahogany huntress charges through the throng of trees. A thin layer of sweat glistens upon her skin as she follows in hot pursuit, trying her best to ignore the painful stabbing that seems to increase with each step.

Dark eyes narrow as Alill and Ysabel herd the trio further and further from her, their progression, though hindered by two small foals, proves to be faster than her own. Hatred seethes beneath her dark gaze as finally she gives up her chase and instead halts with a stomp of her foreleg, "Good riddance wretch! You served your purpose for now... just remember Siobhan... You will never be free of me." she screams, her voice hoarse and cracked.

Without a backwards glance she turns and stiffly moves through the damp woods. The time was coming.