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Nyimara can feel the gray mare's presence. Even before she tumbles down the side of the embankment, even before her new daughter comes into the world, she can feel the desert mare's pale eyes burning itself into her skin. Dark ears tilt backwards in warning regardless of whether it is needed or not. Kàra knows her well enough to know not to rush to her aide. Not like the gray mare could take away the sufferings of birth anyway. It was a mother's task and belonged to her alone.
She did not need to worry about the woman approaching, even as exhaustion drove her into a few moments of slumber if just to regain her energy. Kàra would make sure that no danger approached in the form of trespassers or strangers willing to test their luck with the Dunes witch. Despite the small filly's wriggling form bumping against her hip, Nyimara allows herself a few uninterrupted moments, concentrating on returning her ragged breathing to normal and recovering from the exertion of energy it took to bring the small bundle into the world. Only when the sound of Quinn's voice rises above the stillness of the Dunes does her dark gaze flutter open and she instinctively lifts herself into a sitting position. No need for him to see her a complete and total mess.Pale lashes blink slowly against the bright sunlight as Nyimara casts her gaze back over the ridge from which she had tumbled unceremoniously tumbled down only hours before. There, a dark silhouette against the bright blue of the sky, is the dark stallion she had chosen as her king. A small smile tugs at her ashen lips as his proud head turns, catching sight of the dark figure she cut against the sand. Even in the distance that separates them, she can feel the intensity of his gaze as he slides easily down the edge of sand. The dry humor in his voice drives an amused chuckle from her lips as she glances up at him, her near black eyes glittering in the bright sunlight. ”I suppose you could say that.” she purrs, stretching her forelimbs out in front of her as he makes his approach. The gentle touch of his warm muzzle against her cheek is enough to tighten the swelling of emotions in her breast. The last time she had gotten too attached to a mate, Bjorn had cut jagged strips from her soul. She grunts in warning as with whatever grace she can muster, she heaves herself to her hooves. Giving herself a quick shake to rid herself of as much of the sand that splattered her sweat darkened coat as possible she turns her gaze once more back to her partner. ”It was a mutual effort I think.” she murmurs, snaking her neck towards him to nip his shoulder affectionately before turning her attention now to the filly at their feet. As though child thought she may have been forgotten, the little silver haired girl bleats her indignation and once again, struggles to free herself of the remnants of the sac that had brought her into this world. It takes a few attempts but with both eyes on her, (finally!) she manages to untangle the long dark legs from beneath her and follow her mother’s example. Bright blue eyes dance as the charcoal girl wobbles on unsteady legs now spread bracing beneath her. Proudly, she lifts her small chin and glances up at the familiar stranger. Small nostrils quiver as she nickers at him, dark lashes blinking curiously as though expecting him to approach her merely because her interest rests on him. Nyimara cannot help but to smirk as she tilts her head towards the small girl. ”Got your attitude I would say.” she teases, her thick tail flicking lightly against her heels as she shifts the weight of her body to bring herself alongside the stubborn child. The little charcoal girl does not need any further invitation. The moment the sweet scent of milk hits her rapidly moving nostrils, all attention elsewhere ceases. An excited nicker escapes her tiny lips as the girl risks a wobbling shift of her hips to bring her searching head beneath her mother's warm belly. Greedily she suckles at her mother's side, savoring the warmth and satisfaction that the nourishment filled her with. Nyimara turns her gentle gaze back to Quinn. "I thought of naming her Rhaynira." she muses, her dark eyes searching his bright blue gaze expectantly.