Nyimara expects this copper stallion’s trepidation at the prospect she has lain so plainly before him. Anyone with half a sense in their head would. The prospect of a monarchy is a daunting one and not one that the silver-haired witch expects the other herds to take lightly. At least not at first anyway.
A mask of understanding flits across her refined features as the exotic woman bobs her head slightly in an effort to portray emotions that are altogether foreign to her. A sultry smile lingers at the corners of her ashen labrums as the mare tilts her head slightly, the silvery white tendrils of her mane tumbling forward into the curve of her throat. ”I understand you’re concern Helios. You would be a fool not to be reserved about such a weighty decision…” she begins, pausing a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing onward. ”But the decision need not be as monolithic as you might imagine.” she purrs, long banner idly flicking the muddy waters against her heels. ”What we suggest will not change anything of the Dunes nor the rest of Salem. We…. (she reminds herself to continue to play the part of united front before strangers) ... feel as thought a monarchy could be beneficial for all the herds. A united front is much harder to defeat than four separate herds trying to remember borders and who is allied with who. You would still have full control over your territory, as a lead stallion you have that right always…” she continues, pausing a moment to give her proud head a toss, ridding her visionfield of the thick veil of silver forelock. ”The same that Tinuvel had with Solomon….” it is a struggle to keep the distaste of the name from her tongue but she tries her hardest if only make certain her point is known. When he questions who she felt should be fit to call themselves ‘monarch’ of Salem, Nyimara knows she has come to the cusp of the discussion, the brink in which their alliance will either continue or fall apart altogether. A gentle smile curls across her lips as she tilts her head, this time angling her body back towards the Desert from which she had come. ”Well, seeing how each territory in some way touches the Desert…. I…. we… feel as though it would only make sense that the Desert monarchs be the ones of Salem. That way, we can provide an impartial party to any disputes among the herds.” she finishes, turning her dark gaze back to the handsome stallion. Once again the coy grin slips into place as she stretches her ashen lips towards him, savoring the arid desert scent that clings to his skin. ”We could always try it out. If it doesnt work to everyone’s satisfaction, things could go back to the way they are now… constant patrols, worries, anxiety of ambush or attack. The way we offer prevents this, or at the very least, will discourage it anyway.”