She should have heard her approaching, but then again, Kara was near silent, especially when she wanted to be.

Dark ears peel backwards at the softly whispered voice that draws her from her thoughts. Finely dished head jerks sideways to fix the dappled mare with a vicious glare. Kara. The snarl on her ashen lips fades away and the bristled hairs along her spine settle back into place with a shudder of her skin. Despite the frustration and anger she felt rising within her, the devoted moonwashed mare did not deserve her wrath.

”Good morning Kara” she murmurs with a tension releasing sigh.

’....news of the herd’ those words draw her ears forward and a single brow arches suspiciously. ”News?” she inquires, stifling the groan that hangs deep in her breast. It always seemed that bad news traveled in pairs. Go figure.

But what turmoil and fury burned within her, seems to not go unnoticed to Kara. Concern dances in her companion’s sapphire eyes as she inquires as to the troubles that currently plague the witch. A mask of indifference settles into place as Nyimara gives her proud head a shake. As much as she trusted her companion, this was something she had to settle within herself before she dared to share the news elsewhere. ”It is nothing. You were saying something of the herd?” she presses curious as to what might have gotten past her watchful eyes. Has Fell returned? Were there new strangers to be managed? Her ashen lips press together firmly as her long tail switches lazily against her heels in anticipation. Patience was never one of her strongest virtues.