The sound of his voice breaking through the silence that hangs heavily between them is akin to nails scraping a chalkboard. Dark rimmed ears bend backwards as the woman continues her languid pace, fearless of the stallion’s retaliation. He claims it is she who is too prideful and bent on destruction and yet he is the very one who bugled the first challenge. He had come for Tefnut with tooth and claw instead of approaching her in hopes of a diplomatic solution. Would a successful leader merely turn a blind eye? Would a wise Queen roll over? Did she fear his less than veiled threats? Not at all. He was not the first enemy to prowl at her doorstep and he would not be the last. Her walls were high and the fortifications strong.

The hiss of his voice is as feral as the cackle of amusement that leaves his lips. As though she were supposed to fear him. Seriously? Season after season, year after year she has fought and defended her homes from the upstarts like him determined to make a name for themselves. Each time, whether through strength or cunning, Nyimara remained the master of her own destiny. No more would she be victim to the whim of a stallion. She WAS Queen of the Desert and no petty threat would change that fact.

’......no one….respects you when you die…’ the last of his words cause her pause. Amusement shifts to something akin to anger as she turns her head to offer him a parting glance. ”Maybe YOUR bones, Lucifer. The islands still whisper of Rougaru in hushed reverence and the sands have long since returned him to dust. Perhaps you should consider that. I am known and you…. You are just the void in the shadows, hoping for a scrap of glory. Find your entertainment elsewhere; there is no one here eager to listen to your ranting.” she finishes with a dismissive snort. Lithe limbs gather beneath her as the chocolate-hued woman quickens her pace, eager to put the black beast in her rearview mirror, at least for the time being. She had more pressing matters to address.