He can feel someone's eyes on him as he grazes, but forces himself to remain nonplussed by it. Marceline's proposition and the time they had spent together was forcing him to reconsider much of what his initial plan for Salem was, and he knew there would be no easy to way to announce what he had in mind. No matter how he thought to approach it, he knew that Nyimara would rebel against it… and he could not blame her. He remembered how stung he had been when she had returned with an outsider in her belly and honeyed excuses on her tongue.

Still, the thought of both powerful mares working with him to secure Salem had an allure to it that he could not pass up, even if it would be better for his mental and physical health to pick one.

When the silvery mare returns, just as dangerous as she had been when she left, he turns to watch her approach. She is beautiful, both to him and objectively, even at her age. The gleam of her coat against the sand, the shape of her pretty head, the way her neck bows up into a taut arch when she wants to draw him in. She is a master of seduction, and if it were not for the fact that he had also felt the bite of her fangs before, he might have been entranced again.

There is a cadence to her opening lines that tells him there is more beneath the surface, that she is coming to him with a conclusion already drawn, a gun pointed at his head, a finger on the trigger. So when she prompts about Marceline, he does not deny it, metaphorically placing his head against the barrel. "Time will tell, I imagine." Perhaps she does not know that if this child quickens it will already be a younger sibling to their elder daughter, who he has still not gone to meet.

"And what of your diplomatic efforts?" He inquires archly, caving to what he believes she wants from him anyway, stretching to attempt to trail his muzzle across the lower half of his neck. She remained intoxicating, her scent seemingly free of any of Helios' taint beyond that of friendly acquaintance, but he knew well enough he could be wrong. He well remembered how he had taunted her when she had departed, insinuating that the only way she might be able to win the Dunes' cooperation was through bargaining a child. He didn't necessarily believe that, but at the time he had only wanted to get beneath her skin. To wound her before she could snap back at him.

Pulling away slightly, his gaze sought her own, fighting as he always did against the part of him that did, truly, appreciate her presence. For all the venom and danger she represented, she was still the sort of mare that could make his blood boil with desire. The sort of mare that - even in his current state - could stand toe to toe with him on the battleground and likely come out ahead. The danger in her was what turned him on, and Nyimara was nothing if not dangerous.

Adult Stallion 16.0HClassic Champagne ChimeraSolomon x Xiomara