The obsidian stallion does not keep her waiting for long. Dark eyes follow the black figure as he manifests slowly from the shadows of the forest, his golden eyes bright and burning with curiosity and caution. He does not linger on the outskirts of her vision field as he might have once done, nor does he cast a backward glance in whatever direction his herd might be tucked away in. Dark ears flicker atop her slender head as the burly beast approaches. Paper-thin nostrils flutter at the scent of rot and infection that permeated his scar-littered hide. The mask of indifference falters now as anger once more rises anew. Was the world out to beat the old wolf’s offspring into submission?

Forcing the rising tide of her emotions aside, Nyimara takes a step forward, a single brow arching as she inspects the new myriad of wounds upon her mute brother’s coat. Most were already covered in thick scabs, marking where the white hairs would replace them. Soon, he would not be able to shift amid the shadow undetected. Her dark eyes linger on the stump that had once held his curled ear. ”Get in over your head little brother? That does not seem like you.” she purrs, pausing a moment as a coy smile slides across her lips. ”Seems you survived mostly intact. “ The words falter now as she drops the facade of true sibling loyalty and care. It was the wolf that brought her here.

”He killed him.”

The words fell like posion from her tongue. As much as the old beast infuriated her, as much as she proclaimed to despise him, she found herself now fighting back the choking sobs of a child desperate for more hours with the only parent she had ever known. Dark eyes glaze, hardened by the hatred that scoured through her veins as she thrust her muzzle in the direction of the Cove. ”He had been missing for weeks but I found him, what had not been picked clean by the vultures and crows. HIS SCENT was all over him.” she spat, stomping a single hoof against the rocky ground in frustration. All her desires, her plans… it must all be put on hold now. Nyimara was known to hold a grudge and by the gods she would make certain to hold this one.

Silver white tail snaps audibly against her supple hips as the witch queen turns her hardened gaze back to the injured stallion. The playful smile on her lips was gone. ”I will make him pay. Will you join me?”