Nyimara can feel him. Though she is not at first sure who it is that disturbs her retreat, she can feel the presence of another as surely as though they stood behind her. The shuffle of hooves over rock and sand, the gentle hum of breath, even the switch of a tail announces the presence to her in the confines of the rocky chasm. Regardless of the annoyance she felt at the intrusion, there is nothing that she can do lost amid the torrential throws of labor. For the time being, she is forced to focus her mind on the moment between she and nature and it is not until the small silver black filly is standing before her does the intruder once more resurface in her mind.

Dark eyes admire the little silver haired girl before her. She was beautiful in the eyes of her mother but even Nyimara knew that age would only intensify that. Already her proud little head stood tall upon a damp, arching neck. Unlike most of her children, whose eyes trained on her from birth, this little one is true to her bold name. Her wide eyes scan the world around them, finding assurance in the mere presence of her mother instead of needing to hold eye contact. That could prove good or bad for the silver witch in the long run. Either way, this girl would be a handful and Nyimara felt a sense of excitement and anticipation swell within her.

With the same determination, Rhaenys rises to unstable hooves and lurches towards Nyimara’s side where her tiny muzzle buried beneath her flank. A breath is exhaled that the silver haired woman had not even realized she held as the sensation of the child’s suckles relieves the uncomfortable pressure of her swollen teats. In the moment of peaceful bliss, the presence makes himself known.

A small part of her had expected to see Rehoboam round the bend and approach with unease and expectant eyes. She had, after all, let the implication hang heavily on him that this was his child. However it is Quinn who rounds the outcropping of limestone. Small, mahogany ears perk forward as dark eyes find his own pale blue. A small part of her expected to see disgust and perhaps even a hint of jealousy in his eyes as he gazed upon mother and daughter. Yet, there is nothing of the sort there now. He speaks, his deep baritones thick with the curiosity that lingers in his eyes as he shifts his gaze from mother to daughter and back again. Rhaenys spins away from her side as his voice resounded off the rock walls. Her small ears lace tightly against the side of her neck as she fixes him with a fierce stare, stamping her small hooves as if to offer voice to the irritation her mother felt through the labor. An amused chuckle echoes from her lungs as Nyimara stretches her neck to allow ash dusted labrums to brush against the child’s velvet hip. ”Seems she does not approve of interruptions…” she purrs, glancing back to Quinn’s pale eyes to see if he takes offense. The small voice within her whispers prayers of hope but the tangled vines of indifference reminds her that though their relationship was heavy with raw emotion, their joining was meant to be nothing more than a meeting of minds with similar goals. He wanted chaos and discord and well, Nyimara was more than happy to offer him the opportunity to see those goals met. There was meant to be no attachment, no fierce love beyond what loyalty to the cause demanded. Her history with Bjorn and Aranck and even Shenzi taught her that she could never truly rely on anyone. Quinn might appear to be her perfect match but how long could it last? She was not sure her heart would ever heal enough to find out. However, that did not stop her from enjoying the view.

Nyimara can feel Rhaenys glancing up at her, long before she breaks eye contact with Quinn long enough to give the sooty girl an approving smile. With a nod of encouragement, Nyimara takes a step towards Quinn, her gaze once more seeking him. ”Her name is Rhaenys.” she murmurs, arching her own sand-dusted neck proudly, her dark eyes hungrily tracing the curve and contours of his handsome form. A single ear flickers, ”She is a beauty is she not?” she asks...