It seemed Sunspear’s question was not the breezy conversation starter she had meant it to be; Nephele had certainly been to the islands before it sounded, but apparently the warrior’s experiences had been far from plesent. Meg listened with a frown. She had heard the reports of the last opening to the rift and still it raked at her conscious that she had not been there. With the twins newly born at the time she could not very well have left the Throat for more than a few hours and Gwaihir had told her time and again that here was no fault in that, but still she wished she could have been there. She had missed the first battle, had come to find the bloody remains of it and then she had missed the last, and her family had fought and won without her. It was a lucky thing that none of the throat had lost their lives, had the Sultana been met with that tragedy she would never have stopped blaming herself for not being there. Gaucho was stronger than her, was older and more experienced, and God-Blessed to boot, but on the day he made her Sultana she had assumed just as much responsibility as he. “I was sorry that I couldn’t be there, I am glad to have warriors I can rely on.”

Nephele’s next story inspired less guilt on the Sultana’s, but stirred up annoyance and even amusement when by the end there was no harm done. She nodded in approval of the warriors reasoning for returning to the isles, taking note for future reference: this was a sword-sister who took her job of protecting Dragon’s Throat seriously, who would take the extra time and the initiative to be sure that nothing else lurked even after an initial threat had been vanquished. Megaera gave a short and bitter. She’d definitely herd of this Gull before, and felt a familiar angry jolt at the idea that an outcast would dare to target a member of her herd; some were bold enough that it bordered on idiotic. “You’d be a worthy prize no doubt, we women of the Throat are the fairest in the land. I am glad we were able to keep you!” She glanced at Nephele, a humorous glint in her eye to accompany the joke before sobering up. “We have had some trouble recently with outcasts overstepping; you’d think they would think twice before challenging us, especially on their own.  Keep a good eye out, let Einarr or I know if you find any more troublemakers.”

A call sounded in the distance and Meg’s dark eyes fell to the beach below. The black and white pegasus was unfamiliar and Meg shook her head slightly at her herd-sister’s inquiry.  As the black mare dived so did she,  descending through the wild gusts and letting her strong wings carry her back towards the earth. She touched down just after her petrol partner and followed, coming up alongside her as she greeted the stranger. She settled herself on the damp sand, cocking her hip and folding her wings to stand comfortably.  She watched the stranger but did not speak. It was the painted one who had calle them from the skies, let her state her own purpose.

"."
[ooc:: Sorry for the wait!]
@Iona @Nephele

M E G A E R A
knock me out, knock me out
sayin that i want more, this is what i live for