A dark, ominous glare was given to all those beautiful, light-of-frame mares that tittered around Kisamoa. She could not help the slight growl in her throat and showing of her sharp-tipped teeth by barely-peeling-back lips. Never, before, had the sea mare so strongly felt the heavy weight of muscle on her athletic body; nor the sharp fins of her face or the bulky ridges on her neck. She was so far removed from any semblance of ‘beauty’ in this land. Nor had she been a vision in Akvo. But that had never mattered.
Until now.
But now—now she could show her worth to Kis another way. She could remove more bones than any other mare. So, with a low avowal, “I will help you, Kis,” she slipped towards the sea.