The little buckskin had been bold during their first meeting too, but it seemed that time had given the mare an air of insolence he didn't particularly appreciate. His hooves had been metaphorically tied while Nyimara held the Desert's reins, but now that the control had shifted, it was up to him what happened to this herd and to its residents.

And while she may not have time to suffer useless figureheads, he did not have the time to suffer mouthy herd members either. The Lagoon would gladly take a trinket he was sure, and though he did not know the leads of the other islands yet, he would be surprised if there were none out there that wouldn't trade an alliance for a mare as pretty as Goldenrod.

"Your loyalty is noted," he said with a dry rasp of falsified amusement. He watched her take a few steps away before speaking darkly, his gaze growing sharper with each additional step she took away without having been given leave to depart his presence. "Be ready in the morning, Goldenrod."