The silver haired mare is used to rising long before the sun turns the night sky faint blushes of purple and pink. This pregnancy, like the last, has been all fun and games until here recently. Once again, as her time to deliver begins to draw near, the silver haired mare is reminded of what a burden carrying a child can be and just how taxing it was when having to patrol the borders of her herd. At least she had Quinn to help. Ever dotting, even when she was less than affectionate and more venomous than sweet, the dark stallion had taken up the duty of patrolling the borders farthest from the oasis where they spent most of their days, if only to save her from excessively straining her body or risking injury to their child she grew within. Of course Nyimara was grateful, but she did not dare speak the words aloud. He knew all he needed to know. This was his child after all and he was her king.

She had taken to sleeping a bit further from Rhaenys and the rest of the herd as of late, finding it much harder to get comfortable among the swaying grasses and sheltering trees, instead, she found herself nestling uncomfortably into the sides of the dunes where her body could glean the cool night air from the sands and rising seemed much easier when morning came. However even this did not completely dissolve her discomfort and more than ever, she found herself pacing restlessly. This night had been no different except that she kept imagining screams. Screams of pain echoed into her mind and resonated off the dunes. For a moment Nyimara found herself startled and even on edge, the short mahogany hairs along her spine on end as her piercing black eyes scanned the glittering hills bathed in moonlight for anything. Nothing. No creature stirred, not even the shadowed silhouettes of the slumbering herd. Imagined it. Must have.’ she murmurs to herself but despite the dismissal, she cannot shake the ill at ease feeling she is left with.

She had given up any hopes of sleep long ago and only hoped an early morning walk through the warm ocean waves might manage to temper some of the growing discomfort she felt in her swollen fetlocks. Despite the chill in the early morning air and the restless night spent searching for intruders or signs of danger, the silver haired queen is beginning to feel more like herself. The foam flecked waves pooling against her hooves, soothing the pulsing of her heartbeat she felt there. A relaxed sigh escapes her lips as she cast her gaze over the open expanse of ocean in search of the gray dolphins that often breached the clear blue waters early in the morning. Only when her gaze travels over the pink shore, does she register a change.

At first, she thinks it must be a mirage, an illusion caused by the gods of salem… the trickster maybe. However, had those same gods not just brought down her wrath upon Salem for Rafe’s insolence? Why then would they send such trickery to her now? She gives her proud head a shake, blinking away the remnants of salt water and sand from her eyes and again focusing her eyes on the figure standing downwind of her. Skogsra.

She would know her daughter anywhere, even grown and dejected as she appeared, tottering against the pull of the frothing ocean waves against her heels. Small mahogany ears tilt forward as she takes one slow, cautious step after another until she is sure that there is no trickery to be had (mind you it is early in the morning and even she knows that mirages don't tend to appear until the sun is at its hottest). The daughter that Bjorn had stolen from her was here; well, what was left of her.

”Skogsra?” she murmurs, her voice wavering between excitement and fury. Dark eyes devour the beautiful, dejected silver sabino mare as she closes the distance between them as swiftly as her swollen belly will allow. ’Bjorn did this!’ she screams at the beast within, wanting to rip apart her once lover if only to cradle his heart against her breast as the beating stopped. If he had only let her keep Skogsra… if she had only been allowed to mother her children instead of the damned soul determined to replace her with Siobhan and Tigerlily… if only….

”NO!” she commands, her sleek mahogany neck arching proudly to lift her finely sculpted head high. ”You are my daughter and you will not give up so easily!” she snaps, snaking her neck forward to place a firm nip on the silver haired girl’s crimson shoulder. Dark eyes smolder as she glares into those familiar icy blue eyes, her ashen lips pressed firmly together as her long silver white tail switches impatiently against her heels. If Skogsra was back, that meant Bjorn and Sigurdr were back too…. Didn’t it? ”What happened?” she demands impatiently.