Shenzi set her sights on Rehoboam as soon as he steps into view. “I should have known it would be you.” The words were a soft snarl beneath her breath, and she drew her chin to her chest, pinning her ears as she regarded him. When it became clear that he didn't intend to come any closer, or make for the trail down which Azizi had traipsed, the fierce barb mare relaxed, but she lost none of her latent hostility.

“Many things are said about this place, you know. About your so-called brothers.” The words were spoken quietly, not so much an offering heading towards any kind of peace between them, but rather intended as a way to provoke some kind of reaction, or to be used to learn a little more about this persistent stallion, who seemed determined to haunt her steps like an unwanted shadow. (Did he not know?) “Not that I’m the sort to rely much on the opinions of others.” Shenzi was stalling, trying to draw Rehoboam out. She cared not what he thought of her. She didn’t care what any of them thought, she didn’t care what anyone thought. Except, that didn’t quite ring true…

“But with my own heart I judge them to be cowards.” Shenzi realised it was unfair of her to judge those she didn’t know. But life was unfair, and the Lagoon had more than played its part in reminding her of this. She had purposefully avoided them as best she could the entire Fall season, and wasn’t interested in making an effort to get to know any of them. (And why should she?) Neither, though, had any of them shown interest in getting to know her. With bitterness, Shenzi accepted that such a thing was surely seen to not be worth the effort, but dwelling too much on this only led her heart to aching, and she hated to be vulnerable like that, to be unable to hide from the terrible truth that had hounded her all her life.

The scarred and savage barb mare just wanted to be wanted. So far, she'd found what she desired in the form of a mare just as fierce as she, and these crooked stallions were keeping her from Nyimara's side.

It was beginning to become clear to her that she was not wanted here. (Azizi was.) So it only served to stoke her burning rage, being kept here, apart from Nyimara, in a place where no-one saw her, save maybe one. With a jerk of her head, she snapped her wandering, narrowed gaze back to the young stallion. “Except you, Rehoboam.” In her eyes, this bachelor was no coward. But the way the words had dripped off her tongue did not lend themselves to sounding much like a compliment. “You’re a fool,” she spat, and half turned away from him with a derisive snort. For what reason, exactly, she didn’t deign to clarify. It felt as though she’d given away too much already.

As much as she wished to leave and follow after her boy, despite everything she had gleaned from her brief interactions with Rehoboam, despite never having sensed malice or hostility from him, despite it not even being the right season for it, despite a great many things (including the fact that she’d make him bleed for even trying anything), Shenzi couldn’t fight against the instincts that warned her not to turn her back completely.

It felt like she was standing on uneven ground, and the edge of a cliff, one misstep away from a great, yawning chasm. She wanted nothing more than to be with Azizi (no, there was one thing she wanted just as much, but it wasn’t possible for now), but still Shenzi remained where she was. Because, if she was to slip and fall, the angry, anguished mare didn’t want her son there to watch. “I am not blind,” she snapped, her shoulders tensing under the weight of her words, as she added to the burdens she carried by leaving some things unspoken. “And I’m not ignorant of the way things work here.”

A trembling took up in her legs, and she rumbled her dissent, shifting her weight in an attempt to better ground herself. “Your brothers may think of me as nothing --” she winced at the way her voice cracked, and coated the rest of her words with steel, as if it would make up for the crack she’d shown in her armour. “-- May have me believe I have no power, may turn a blind eye and a deaf ear…” Her voice faded into nothing, and for a moment it seemed as if the river of her rage had run its course. But with ears flattened to her skull, and her neck arching, Shenzi turned back, head raised in defiance, eyes blazing as she sought to pin Rehoboam down with her gaze. “But there is more to me than any of you will ever know.” One step, carrying her closer, bringing her in between Rehoboam and the gap in the foliage that Azizi had slipped through.

“I will not be broken again, not by anyone!” she hissed.

A promise.

“They will see me, and you will hear me.”

A threat.

“Stay away from my son.”