Nyimara knows that Asmodeus is close. She knows that there is no stranger that might ever be able to cross into the borders of the Desert without finding themselves with either herself or the chimera stallion quickly haunting their steps like a wolf in the night. Under normal circumstances, the pale-haired huntress would find no reason to prevent the Desert king from joining at her side. Together, they were a force the islands could not reckon with. However this is Shenzi. This is a piece of her soul and a vulnerability to her that had no answers. The dark mare has always been her strength and the chink in her armored hide. She was exactly what Asmodeus could use against her.
Instinct beckons her to draw back her ears and bare her fangs at her king. Instinct demands she pivot to face the threat he possessed head-on and with the pent up malice fueled by hormones that has threatened beneath the surface for weeks on end. Instinct demands that she disregard the hurt an pain she felt at Shenzi’s abandonment all those years ago and defend her heartpiece against the potential threat. Instinct tells her many things; but her mind speaks a louder voice. This time.Muscles tense beneath her chocolate colored skin as the witch-queen fights against the myriad of emotions that threaten to appear behind her voidless black eyes. Keenly aware of Asmodeus’ watchful gaze, the silver-haired woman remains impassive, the mask of indifference tied firmly into place across her refined features. If he wanted to be her stalker in the night then she would let him. She would give him nothing away, not for free.Recognition flashes in Shenzi’s auburn eyes as the darkling mare blinks up at her approach. Nyimara studies the fallen creature, noting the ruddy brown of her coat that now shown dull in the sunlight. It was near impossible to forget how glossy her hide had once been, how soft and sleek it felt beneath the witch queen’s lips. It was clear that while Nyimara was never one to think the fates had found her in favor, Shenzi seems to have had even worse luck. The mare was of similar desert blood to herself, she knew how unforgiving and fierce the arid deserts of Salem could be. Was this her attempt to end things? To return to the very sands that had formed her bones and forged her hardened soul? Not if Nyimara had anything to say about it. Rougaru was gone, his sun-bleached bones already lost beneath the ever-shifting dunes of sand and rock. She had already bid Bjorn goodbye, abandoned the life she always thought she wanted for the unknown future at Asmodeus’ side. She would be damned if she bid Shenzi goodbye in the very same year.An amused smile tugs at the corners of her ashen labrums at the barb’s retort. If anyone knew of her weaknesses, it was Shenzi. Silence continues to hang between them as Nyimara continues to appraise the scarred mare for injuries. Aside from unfamiliar lines of age (no doubt the same that creases her own flawless features), she sees nothing. No protruding bones, no dripping blood, or buzzing of flies that indicate infection. No, behind the feverish, bloodshot eyes there is still the fierce heart beating strong and unyielding. ’....chasing ghosts…bending….power that can be taken away at a whim…’ Nyimara’s skin flinches at the sharpness of Shenzi’s daggered words. Pale lashes blink as the amusement disappears from her lips and the chocolate mare finds herself glancing back at Asmoedeus. A single glance, a glance that awakens and lowers the walls of her defenses. Twin flutes snap backward, disappearing beneath the silken tendrils of her mane as Nyimara turns once more to face the fallen mare. ”Better that than to sulk in the past and let the ‘what ifs’ haunt my future…” she begins, biting off the first hints of frustration and hurt that lace her tone. The truth was she HAD felt abandoned. That day in the Lagoon, when she had risked everything to set her heart free only to have the scarred mare balk and refuse her. That day at the falls when Shenzi first turned the sharpness of her tongue against Nyimara… it was hard not to feel betrayed. Silence hangs between them for a moment, both mares lost in their own memories and the turmoil of emotions that accompanied them. When the silence is broken, this time, it is defeat that flattens Shenzi’s words and draws the silver-haired witch from the deep well of memories. ’I lost him…..’ Confusion furrows her brows at the grief in Shenzi’s voice. A momentary pang of jealousy appears in the glitter of her dark eyes but it evaporates when the mare continues… ’...I lost all of them…’Now she remembers. She remembers the boy that Shenzi had stayed behind in the Lagoon. She cannot remember his face but she remembers the mother’s devotion in Shenzi’s eyes when she willingly gave up her freedom to remain at her child’s side. Her near-black gaze softens. Nyimara knew all too well the pain of losing a child. Even now Nycol still haunts her dreams in the darkest of nights, just beyond her reach. ’I can’t lose her too…’ The defeat in the barb mare’s voice wraps around her hardened heart, squeezing and cracking the barrier of her most vulnerable part. She wants nothing more than to draw the mare close, to bury her small muzzle beneath the curtain of her tattered, brown mane, and breathe in deeply the scent that clung to her skin. Like a cataract of water over a dam, she wants to let the walls break and feel the emotions that have remained bottled up within her for so long. She might have just forgotten about the haunting blue-green eyes of Asmodeus watching from the background if it meant she could feel an ounce of the freedom she always felt with Shenzi once more.But the moment the mare collapses against the hardened earth, Nyimara knows she cannot do that. She cannot let herself falter if only because more than ever, Shenzi needed her. She needed her in the way Nyimara had always needed the fierce brown mare. Strength to feed off strength. And so, she will be her strength now.Instead of letting her go into oblivion and abandon the scared filly huddled in the brush nearby, Nyimara turns to the only language she and Shenzi both speak.Blunt teeth clack together near the mare’s shoulder as the pale-haired witch makes her false threats as believable to the prone mare and the lurking stallion as possible. The feral rumble in her throat breathes life into the defeated mare, causing her to stir and rise. Despite the shake of her wobbling legs and the breathlessness the energy had robbed from her, the dark woman stood. Raven-tipped flutes pitch forward as Shenzi’s rasping voice hovers between them. ’..there you are she-wolf…I see you…’ She-wolf. She had almost forgotten herself. She-wolf. The fierce predator that would give up her very existence if it meant defending her own. She WAS the She-wolf that Shenzi spoke of, just as Shenzi has always been her pack. When the dark mare reaches for her, Nyimara does not draw away. She stands rigid and frozen as the mare’s blunt teeth rake over the thin hairs of her shoulder, awakening the electric current that has long lain dormant and asleep. Instinctively her long neck arches, allowing her ashen plush to snake towards the russet mare’s wither and linger there for a moment, the longest she dared without giving anything further away to the watchful eyes lingering in the distance. When Shenzi draws back, Nyimara does not stop her. A proud line lingers on her lips as she curves around the woman and guidingly lengthens her gait to bring herself once more to her companion’s side, as much a guardian as possible. ’Remember those years ago… my name…’ A single flute tilts towards the mare as Nyimara bobs her head once in acknowledgment. She remembers that day, the Lagoon was so mirky and insects buzzed around them. She remembers how angry and furious she had been at the taste of Solomon’s dismissal and the greediness with which the pack of dogs lurked behind the screen of ferns. Shenzi had burst from the shadows with the same flames dancing in her eyes, she had approached fearlessly and those embers had grown. Like two flames made one, they became a force that not even the Lagoon stallions dared to provoke. ”I remember….. Savage.” Nyimara murmurs, that coy smile quirking her lips. They had both been savage, untamed, and unhinged. Bridled by no one. How the times have changed. Even she cannot deny that as once again her gaze is shot toward the chimera figure lurking on the outskirts.Shenzi stumbles and instinctively Nyimara tenses, preparing to bare the mare’s weight should she need to. When the scarred mare asks that she take the child ahead to water, Nyimara knows it is a request she would refuse unless there is no choice. Glancing at the filly, Nyimara notices for the first time how cracked and parched her lips appear. She might have more strength than Shenzi in this moment but not for long. Not with the fierceness of the autumn sun that beats down on their backs and robs their bodies of sweat. Shenzi’s touch draws her attention back and Nyimara fixes her dark gaze upon the mare. ’I will follow, I promise…’ The rasping words draw a scoff from her own whiskered lips as she once again arches her neck to nudge the dark mare’s shoulder. ”I’ve heard THOSE words before.” she remarks drying before turning her gaze back towards the filly, her head tilting to the rock-strewn trail ahead of them. ”Ahead girl, follow the path in the rocks, it is clear enough and not too far now. You are safe here… we will follow.” she finishes, shooting Asmodeus a meaningful glance. She would not leave Shenzi, not this time. Not even if she could help it. ”Come on savage….” she taunts, her hardened voice void of the usual venom this time as she leans nearer, offering the firmness of her shoulder to support the wobbling mare, ”It is not far now, water is waiting.”