Nyimara would, almost certainly, send someone else to gather intelligence for her if she thought that she was too well known to do it herself. Vivienne, despite her own parent's reputations, was a relatively unknown quantity in these shifting sands. She had intended to to spend her youth frivolously flirting with random Salem men until she found one she wished to spend her time with, but her girlish plans had been thwarted by Nyimara's resolve. Still, even the pointless drills and endless border patrols were a better trade than having to spend another moment beneath her mother's hoof in Paradise, so Vivienne tried to limit her complaining.

Even so, Nyimara had not done so today. Vivi's little escapade to the Dunes here was entirely of her own volition, born of curiosity about the sands new ruler and more than a little boredom. She was not the sort of mare that enjoyed fighting. Her only practice battles so far had been to prevent the irritating filly Kara from garnering too much of Nyimara's favor and Vivi would label herself as neither skilled nor a threat... at least not in a physical sense.

She wasn't here to undermine the spotted stallion, only to satisfy her curiosity and to waste a few sun-drenched hours with someone handsome enough to hold her attention. If, by the end, they had found reason to discuss matters of state and alliances, well, that was another matter entirely.

"I wish for you to do as you please," she offers back, with a smile that is sharp around the edges. "I would not desire you to accommodate me only because you feel that you must."

Vivienne would much rather he desperately desire her lithe body to be pressed against his in some sort of fashion, but she wouldn't press her luck. His diplomatic and reserved answers seemed to imply that he had some sort of experience in leading a herd, which should have counted in his favor in Vivi's eyes. However, his reluctance to engage in any but the most subtle flirting was making it hard for her to stay engaged. She hadn't trekked all the way out to his territory and climbed what felt like a hundred dunes for anything subtle. If she left without garnering at least a request for her return, she would be sorely disappointed.

But few games were ever won so quickly, and it seemed Joachim was not in the mood to lose today. Every time she began to suspect he wanted out of the dance, he'd give her another subtle clue that he was still in it. Even so, the wink was the only indication that he was interested and it contrasted sharply against his measured and careful diplomatic tones.

"If you're sure," she offered, her tone quietly neutral despite the cat-in-the-cream smile that she wore. Vivienne watched him to guage his reaction, and after (unfortunately) finding no clear desire on his face stop the battle, she lifted into a floaty trot that carried her a few paces away. Like her mother, Vivienne rarely resorted to violence, and she was relatively untried when it came to battle. She saw no point in littering her body with wounds and scars if she could avoid it... but she was overdue for a practice fight this season, and win or lose - this would both assuage her curiosity and check this particularly onerous duty off her list.

Twirling to face him, Vivi offered a mock bow, sliding her elegantly arched neck down and lifting one dainty hoof up before squaring up. With one final smirk, she leapt forward towards him and raced as if to crash head on with him, only to eventually round his muscular frame like a barrel horse (no small feet with her naturally high action), and sidle up his opposite side, shoulder to shoulder. Only then did she reach out with her teeth to place them against his shoulder, although not even Vivienne would call the brief pinch of her teeth a true attack.

He was even more arresting to look at up close, his elegant frame draped in ebony freckles and patches that grew smaller and more intricate the closer they got to his face. Even more surprising was the depth of the blue in his eyes, far brighter and more intense than that of the sky that stretched cloudless overhead.

She flushed - a situation that was relatively rare for her - and smirked around the grasp of his hide before releasing and pulling her mouth away from his skin. Almost apologetically, her head tilted and she shook it with a soft sigh and then twisted her gaze to peer back up at him. "Do others truly find fighting fun? I get fighting for a cause... but this feels so... stilted. Surely there are better ways to prepare than to mindlessly throw my body against yours? I mean look at our size difference!"

She side passed a step away from him allowing them both the space to compare. Only a hand separated their heights, but where he wore a light draft-like heritage and solid bone, Vivienne had always resembled her dainty mother far more than her father. It was like standing a pro-wrestler beside a ballerina and expecting them to be able to compete in the same tasks.

ooc: we can do a practice battle if you want?