Marceline is not kept waiting for long, but the figure that manifests from the shimmering horizon is not the one she expects. Instead of Nyimara's familiar face, she's greeted by Rehoboam, though he looks none too pleased to be here. It only fuels her curiosity. Has the silver-haired queen forced him from the Lagoon like she had forced ışıksız? Or had he come of his own accord, only to regret the decision later? The scent of the Lagoon is fading upon his coat, replaced with the smell of sun-heated sand.
"You guessed it," Marceline responds airily, reaching out to share a breath before drawing back. "Business mostly." She doesn't clarify beyond that. He doesn't need to know what brought her here. He holds no authority, and thus serves her no purpose except as a casual conversation companion with which to pass the time while waiting for Nyimara. The red-spotted mare shifts her stance a few times, trying to find a comfortable way to balance the weight of her growing belly. "What are you doing here?"
But before he can reply a silky voice interjects. Marceline's lips curl into a smile as Nyimara's dark figure crests the nearest dune, crimson crown dipping respectfully. But the other queen's attention is fixed solely on the painted stallion, each barbed comment more patronizing than the last. It reminds her of how she might talk to Joachim. Part of her pities Rehoboam, being treated in such an infantile way when he is clearly quite capable of handling himself. But mostly she's amused at how the interaction unfolds before her, opting to remain silent until at last Nyimara turns her full attention to her with an apology ready on dark lips.
"Don't concern yourself, mon chérie. I'm looking forward to having you back. Salem will be much more interesting with you around again." Her smile adopts a mischievous edge. It will be nice to have another queen on Salem to balance things out now that a stallion has taken up residence in the Desert. She hasn't seen or met him yet, but she can smell him. Even Nyimara's dark coat is smothered in his scent. Marceline wonders if the Dunes queen has found a new friend, or dragged along a family member to the island. Long ago when they'd first met in the Hills, Nyimara had spoken of her sire and their shared lust for war and the bloodshed of their enemies. Have they found themselves reunited? Marceline makes a mental note to ask Nyimara about it, but ignores it for the time being in favor of more important business.
"I came here to ensure we are still on the same page regarding our alliance. I hope the goal of a united Salem has not been forgotten?" It'd be a shame to have all their plans fall apart and all those fanciful talks with Rafe to be for naught. Despite her vanishing act, Marceline has always considered Nyimara a valuable ally. She could only hope the sentiment extended to herself, and that their time together had not been forgotten.
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