Eventually, Inara would see that she would regret her decision to join a herd once more. It was an unfortunate paranoia that had been borne from a mistake she had made as a child that had made her so skeptical and so cautious. Her mother's face and the things she had said to the black mare when she had been little more than an infant were strong, bitter memories that sat at the front of her mind.

She had made a mistake and she had been brandished as a careless monster.

With Africa's pass at humour, the dark mare offers a little smile and a sharp outward breath of air that could pass for a single, lonely chuckle. It would be some time before she could understand that laughter was something to be treasured and loved, instead of a tool for mockery and pain. By now her nerves had settled, as she had come to the conclusion that the dappled mare was not planning on sacrificing her to the gods in some ritualistic bloodbath, and that she was, in fact, wholly welcome here; even if the thought of being welcome anywhere left an unfamiliar taste in her mouth that Inara had yet to decide if she liked or not.

At Inara's words, she receives a brief explanation of the military situation here in the throat. While Africa seemed to believe there was more to be desired, already the mare with the broken horn could see that the fortification of Dragon's Throat was already more advanced than that of her birth home. They couldn't even protect one little filly from a hungry cougar.

It is almost assuring to know that she was not the only one that had yet to master the art of warfar, and the dark mare knew well that she still had much to learn. Throughout her years as a loner and as a wanderer she had learnt all she needed to know in order to survive. She knew when it was appropriate to linger and battle with her foe, and she knew when it was best to exploit the genetics of her ancesters and run away. That much she had mastered. “Thank you.” She says softly, hoping that the mare didn't need an explanation for her gratitude. Inara was thankful that the mare had not pressed the matters of her skepticism earlier in the meeting place that had brought about both the dappled mare and Sialia, and she was thankful that Africa did not press Inara's desire to remain relatively unattached to any one place for the time being, even if she did agree to linger in Dragon's Throat for longer than she had intended.

Maybe she would make a home of this place. That is, of course, if she managed to adapt to the Tallsun heat that bore down upon her and seemed to singe her flesh. “I think I need to do some exploring later.” She admits before following Africa's lead and advancing to the watering hole in order to drop her head and drink from the waters.