The sting of Shenzi’s betrayal is still a festering wound in her soul. Call it foolish or wreckless but either way, Nyimara was determined to make it a public spectacle just how easily the dark mare could be replaced. She would not be abandoned and left with all this rage and no outlet for it. If anything, the dark stallion at her side proved how willing he was to play his part.

He purrs coy words that he thinks might stroke her ego. It does, but for much different reasons than he might think. Dark ears rotate, following the sound of his voice as he trails his lips across her skin, stepping towards her retreating form so that there is very little space between them. Heat burns through her already lusting body, filling her veins with a desire for satisfaction that she knows he can fulfill. She cares little at this moment for his destination or his history, truthfully she probably always would. The only thing she feels is the height of hunger at the press of his hard muscle against her body.

"Oh are you?" she breathes, her voice heavy as the weight of her body is shifted, pressing the curve of her hip into his solid frame. Long, elegant neck arches low, a hungry growl rumbles in her lungs, it is as good an invitation as he would get. Nyimara was not one to beg but by the gods she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth either and right now there was nothing better than the thought of his solid frame upon her back.