Nyimara recognizes the call that rings out over the Dunes immediately. A call that she had long been expecting and one that reminded her once more that she had yet ventured to meet with her old alliances in hopes of renewing the vanished strands that wove them in place. Small mahogany ears perk forward atop her silver white crown as the Dunes queen lifts her own dished muzzle to return the shill tenured reply. Slowly she made her way from the thick patch of feather reed and buffalo grass upon which she had been only moments ago devouring ravenously and made her way towards the border of her Dunes where Marceline no doubt waited.

A small part of her found satisfaction in the fact that this time around, it was teh red spotted mare that was forced to have a bit of patience and wait for her approach. The last time that they had come together, it was she who had been left baking out in the harsh rays of the midmorning sun to wait for her potential ally to join her. This was perhaps part of the reason why she did not immediately leap into a frenzied gallop with ears bent back and neck stretched out in warning as she had when Joachim had first washed up on the shores of the Dune.

As she tops a high peak in the sea of sand that she claimed as her own little slice of heaven, sharp eyes scan the rolling slopes before her until she can just make out not one but two figures in the distance. The red spotted mare Marceline and low and behold, her own personal manservant Rehoboam.Just what business did he have greeting her guest and why? Was he attempting to plea bargain an escape route through the Hills?

Dark ears twist backwards as her teeth clench together behind her crimson jaw. As if she was about to let that happen. Suddenly her pace is quickened, ignoring the painful burn of her muscles as they screamed beneath the growing weight of the unborn child within her womb. Damn that Isik and his smoothe tongue. This season was perhaps not the best to have given in to the primal lust for procreation, regardless of how handsome the stallion. She closes the distance between them in just enough time to hear Rehoboam call the Dunes a ‘sandy prison’. A melevolent smile curves across her lips as she slows her pace to a more graceful prance, arching her glossy serpentine to press the velvet of her labrums lightly against the petite curve of her breast. ”Oh come now Rehoboam…” she begins, her dark eyes hardening meaningfully as she fixes him with a steady ‘you-weren’t-summoned’ glare. ”The dunes are not all that bad. I even showed you the best spots to take an afternoon nap.” she purrs, blinking her dark lashes slowly as the smile on her lips broaden. ”Matter of fact, isn’t it your naptime? Why don’t you scamper off and let the grownups do some talking.” she teases with words of honey soaked venom.

She turns her attention now to Marceline, her smile growing more genuine if only a bit as she tilts her head towards the red woman. ”Do forgive me my dear…” she begins, pausing a moment to give her proud head a shake, ”I got a bit caught up in the ongoings within my herd. I meant to come for a visit sooner but I see you have beat me to it.” she finishes, flashing the mare another dazzling smile.