To be paired with the Sultana for patrol, was an honor to say the least, and a welcome surprise. It was a hidden ambition to prove that Megaera had not misplaced her trust in welcoming the obsidian coated mare into the Dragon's Throat. That she was worthy enough to stand along the other female warriors and call them sisters, and to fight with the stallions with the same fervor and prove that she should be respected.

She had flown slightly behind Meg in their flight towards the Riptide Isles, large sails catching the wind as her multi-toned hair caught the breeze and whipped against it like banners caught in a storm. Yet, she was no less boring in her aerial prowess. She glided and dived, pulling her wings against her curved frame before they would spread and catch her once more — barely scraping the surface of the tumultuous sea with her hooves, lifting herself back up into the winds more afterwards. Truly, to fly was the very essence of freedom, to be as the wind was. One moment you could be there, and the next, you were but a whisper upon the southern breeze.

Naturally, while she had been looking forward to spending time with the Sultana, the Isles cast a darkened cloud upon her jovial moment of spirited emotions. Meg's question carried easily above the winds and she spurned herself forward with a great heave of her wings to glide alongside her. "I have been here." She confirmed, head tipped so her odd coloured eyes could look at the approaching islands. "I was here when the Tiger Goddess attacked, I fought with the rest of them to defeat her as she attacked the Lord of Earth." That wasn't the source of the bitterness in her tone, she was a warrioress, her very nature was to fight — to protect. She had done so, just as the others had. There had been loss and injuries that day, and while she had not gotten the worse of the injuries (here's were incredibly light in comparison to others, and her mind turned to the porcelain filly of the Edge), it was haunting enough to hear the sickening crunch of bones and the smell of burning pitch.

"I also explored it afterwards." she began, expression on her face darkening to match the bitter tone she had before. "I wanted to inspect the damage and look for anything left after the Rift Goddess had been slain, in case there was more coming or any clues as to why she had come other than her incoherent screaming." She had been minding her own business, so wrapped up in her thoughts and her task at hand, that she hadn't seen what had stalked her to the Isles. "I had been followed here, by a rogue Pegasus." Gull. That was his name, the residual anger bubbled up like magma against charred rock, threatening to split open once more and spill across the earth. "He had intended to steal me away, if Gaucho hadn't shown up. He just might have. Gull, Gaucho said he was called, he's somewhat of a pest I've also been told."

There's a touch of fondness that slipped in, she didn't presume Gaucho's timely arrival had meant anything more than a Sultan protecting his fellow herd member. Yet, Nephele had a weakness for strong warrior types, she might've smacked herself for how horribly cliche her type was when it became painfully obvious. Yet, Gaucho was handsome with his primal instincts and war painted hide. He was made of the very thing the Dragon's Throat was made of — flying on wings of flame and black feather, the Lord of Fire's most favorite.

Tembovu was also another who had caught the fiery mare's eye. A giant whose hide spoke of a land so very far away, muscular from a life of training no doubt, a life that had seen war and something else. Then those deep blue eyes that spoke of storms and calm skies. A King of the Moon's shadowed herd, the protector of all who called her land home.

Sometimes, she didn't feel her age. She felt like a filly experiencing the first tendrils of what love may be, that silly crush that often caught them in youth. Except, Nephele had never been in love, she hadn't ever allowed herself the luxury. Her heart was made of stone and fire, it's gates of wrought iron made to withstand the storms which battered at the door — but oh, how fragile it was in the gentler emotions. It was not yet made for tender touches and gentle words. Stone became Glass, fragile and transparent, waiting in fear for the first crack to appear. Waiting silently for the one that would eventually shatter the brittle walls.

She's pulled from her conversation with the Sultana by the site of a black and white pegasus, whoever it was had landed and it wasn't long before their call reached her ears. They had been spotted, given the weather, it wasn't as if they could hide in the clouds. Her mind instantly flashed to it being Gull, but it did not look like him, or sound like him, so she allowed herself to relax.

"Who is that?" Neph questioned, turning her gaze once more to Meg. Well, there was only one real way to find out, her wings began to pull to her sides as she began her own descent. Swift and nimble as she came to land a small distance away on the beach, hind legs landing before her fronts touched the ground. Her wings remained outstretched for a long moment after landing, only to be pulled to her sides when she began to walk towards the source of her curiosity.

"Hail." She greeted, dipping her head briefly with her words. Nephele eventually stopped a couple steps away, turning to wait for her Sultana to join her.