†
She is expressive, which Temblor can appreciate: clearly Enya is a passionate soul. He likes that while she is quick to correct his misconception about her meaning, and blatant about her feelings regarding his assumption, she does not wield her tongue like a whip or with intent to injure. She is self-assured and confident, her opinions unabashedly expressed. He imagines one might always have an idea of how she feels about the matters at hand, something he much prefers to coy subterfuge.
Her brash invitation to meet him on the battlefield reminds him of the red mare from so long ago who seemed determined to speak more with her hooves and teeth than through any civil conversation. It is an offer that does not interest him. He expects instinctual combat from men, at a certain time and place, and he will gladly step up to meet a male competitor. It goes against his every instinct to compete with a mare as if she is a stallion, but in this land where mares rule like stallions as if both sexes share the same instinctual ambitions, he may not have such preferential leeway in the future. She admits she cannot bind their herds with blood on the same scale as a stallion, the most basic way to secure an agreement with an ally, and by admitting she already has two men to partner her.....
These islands make little sense to him, sometimes.
He gives the situation up as currently incomprehensible and focuses instead on the goals she shares, seeking common ground with her there before considering the rest. More than ever he misses Shiloh, certain she could help him untangle the nonsensical ways of the herds here. Certainly, they are all more than beasts (some more distant from their feral roots than others), and yet, all life is based on some level of instinct. Why so many go against the natural grain confounds him, especially when there are many ways for a mare to garner power without adopting the role of dominant stallion of the herd.
He shifts his weight to stand hipshot as she concludes her response with a shrug. "Fair enough," he replies mildly, taking no insult from her pointed remarks. Clearly, her boundaries and expectations are explicit, laid out in such a way that he does not doubt her herd is equally aware of her standards for them. Temblor appreciates her transparency and, setting aside his personal misgivings about the strange customs of these lands, considers her as he would any stallion come to approach him about an alliance.
"I have suffered my share of treachery," he admits. "It is intolerable. But as you say, everyone makes mistakes." He draws in a deep breath and sets the past aside. "You speak fairly, Enya, and I can see that while you may wield an iron fist it is unlikely anyone under your eye will ever suffer an unwarranted blow. It sounds, too, as if my goals align with yours: I wish this island to be a safe place for my family, a haven where none of us need fear our neighbors. I would see Atlantis united, a stronghold resistant to those who exist outside it, our names known not only as individuals, but as a group not to be trifled with. Your integrity is evident," he continues with a nod, "and I believe we may complement one another well as allies. I look forward to strengthening our relationship."
And learning more about the why of her, for to his knowledge she is the first mare he has met who rules her own territory, and he is fascinated. Will she gather mares under her, or stallions? A mix? What sort of dynamic will such a herd have?
Temblor tips one ear sideways, a smile crossing his lips as he ventures into a less formal conversation. "Kings, you said?" he asks with an inviting lift of one brow, curious too about the company she keeps at her right and left. "Impressive. How came you to choose them to complement your rule?"
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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