The days since the birth have been a haze of exhaustion and happiness in equal measure. Such words aren't usually combined, and yet they're the only way the mare can think of to sum up being a mother again. It is most definitely tiring, especially when her poor body is recovering from the sheer strain of bringing not one but two foals into the world, and she wanders around in a stupour of fatigue. Feeding two eager young mouths and keeping a sharp eye on them is equally as tiring, and the ironheart's eyes feel like they're propped open with matchsticks.

And yet being a mother again is the most rewarding thing in the world. Keeping these two beautiful little lives safe, nurturing them to become well-balanced, powerful adults, is a feeling like no other. Watching her babies bound alongside her, full of innocence and sheer awe at the world, makes every drop of sweat, blood and pain worth it. She loves every child she brings into the light, love she has never felt for a man. No man could entice such feelings in her, not when her twins come from her flesh itself, brewed and concocted in the laboratory of her womb.

Suffice to say the first week since the birth has been too hectic for the silver to contemplate seeking out Tembovu. She's been too busy getting to know the two new little lives that are reliant on her for everything - safety, sustenance and education, none of which she can afford to forgo. They demand every ounce of her attention, and she gives it freely. This morning, though, her twins are frolicking nearby, and although she is sure to keep one stern motherly eye on them, she allows herself to move a short distance away from them. They are still in her sight - and she in theirs, should hunger take them - but out of earshot. Finally, this is the opportunity she has been waiting for.

She releases a small series of huffs and whinnies, asking for the Glazier to come and pay her a visit. She owes him an explanation; unusual, as the iron warrior rarely feels like she owes anyone. ""

Oh dear - he looks pissed off. The silver sighs, internally tensing and preparing herself for an elephant-sized tornado of wounded masculinity. She casts a final glance to her children then focuses fully on Tembovu, her face neutral. His first words - or, rather, the barb in them - causes her eyebrow to elevate slightly. "Oh yes - by calling for you once, you're practically my bitch," she drawls, sarcasm dripping freely from her lips. She's allowed a small bit of sardonic humour before it gets all srs bzns, isn't she?

He softens, and a small spasm of relief fills her. Maybe he isn't as angry as she'd initially thought - maybe he can be reasoned with. He remarks on the twins, and the ironheart releases a genuine chuckle. "'Lively and healthy' to you, 'what a mischievous pair of little shits' to me," she says, but it's clear she's joking from the fond expression in her icy eyes. Dammit, but she loves the aforementioned little shits. They're her little shits, after all. They're hard work, but what foals aren't? "But thank you. Watching them grow and flourish reminds me why I put myself through all the pain in the first place." And don't they say the memory of the pain fades over time? It's nature's soothing caress - a way to ensure one keeps reproducing, because it didn't really hurt that much, did it? Yes, it bloody did.

Her face grows serious and her gaze sidles awkwardly away from him, anywhere but directly at him. She hates apologizing - the soldier does not grovel, nor does she make excuses for anything she does. Life's too damn short to pick up the pieces of former explosions, and Nyx causes a lot of those. But Tembovu is a herdmate, a...friend? This situation is the dictionary definition of a clusterfuck, and the silver doesn't want to see the Glazier hurt because of it. He doesn't deserve to be on the wrong end of Nyx's selfishness and love of - to put it bluntly - the dick.

See? She does have a heart.

"I actually wanted to speak with you in order to apologize to you." The words tumble in a heap from her lips, but they sound genuine, not forced - or so she hopes. "And let it go on the record that I'm shit at apologizing, so I'm probably going to end up apologizing for my apology." She manages a watery smirk. "This situation...well, it couldn't have turned out any worse if the Moon Goddess had written it during her time of the month. The timing of everything...me and you, me and Déodat. I know what you must have thought. I know that's probably why you protected me during the tiger fight. And I know I should have told you the truth then, but I had to get the hell out of there before someone's badly-aimed attack aborted the twins." She hadn't known there were twins then, of course, but that would have only made her twice as keen to protect them.

"You know what my lifestyle is. You know I don't do love, or commitment. You know I would never have promised anything to you, because I don't do promises. But I also don't do hurting people for no good reason. You didn't deserve the false hope of thinking my pregnancy could be your doing - if you hoped, of course, I don't know." She shifts awkwardly, damn near stuttering as she may or may not have put words in his mouth, assumed he felt emotions he may not have. She's normally...if not eloquent, then quick-witted, but now she feels like a knuckle-dragging dumbass with her inability to make a coherent sentence. "I should have told you sooner, instead of leaving you to stew. So yes - I'm sorry." Jesus, apologies suck tits.

There was a hell of a lot of blood. She smothers a wince, remembering how she'd bled, remembering how she'd suffered. As somebody who abhors weakness, and who does everything in her power to eradicate it from her bloodline, the silver's helplessness during the birth had played on her mind in the time since. Had it not been for Evangeline, she and her children could have died through Nyx's weakness. For someone who prides herself on iron-hard strength, it terrifies the mare how easily she'd almost come to death. All because a second foal lay nestled beside the first, a sleeper cell just waiting to break out and rip her apart.

Perhaps this is a vindication for why she lives how she lives. Life's too short to walk around with a broken heart, when it can be ended like the press of a hoof on an insect.

She returns the nudge of his shoulder, allowing a small sigh of enjoyment to leave her lips. "I'm glad, too. I'd have haunted the shit out of Déodat if his damned fruity loins had been the death of me." Flippant she may (predictably) be, but there's a darkness in her eyes and voice as she speaks, echoing the genuine fear she'd felt whilst her blood drained out of her. Never again. Next time she beds someone, she's going to demand they prove that twins don't run in their family first.

He confirms he's glad she left the battle, and she finds herself absently nodding. To have gone through that birth only to find her children dead from a blow taken during a battle...shit, no. He turns away from her, and she actually wishes she could read minds, so she'd know what musings were darting across that brain of his. He's tense, too (and unfortunately, she's still too sore down below for the option of offering to relax him in her own special way), and she pictures that mare from the battle, the one who'd approached them almost green with envy. Was that the girl who captured his heart?

When he speaks, it's to confirm what she'd already truthfully expected for a while - that he isn't going to continue living how she does. She'd be lying if she said she isn't disappointed, because it just seems like such a god damn waste of a man to see him tied to one woman - a woman that doesn't even appreciate what she has, given that he seems to spend his days brooding over her. He's strong, he's gallant, he has a good heart, he's every mare's wet dream and could sire dozens of powerful foals with as many women as he wanted, and yet...he chooses captivity, to be kept on a leash and to never be able to stray. To happily hand over his balls to his wife and be lead around by them for the rest of his life. It is a shame, a crying shame, and Nyx feels almost mournful that the world has lost a fine man to the might-as-well-be-death that is monogamy.

But, she reasons, there's something to respect in his decision. To forgo the pleasures of the flesh and shun all a stallion's roaming instincts for the sake of one woman takes a certain strength in itself, and whilst the ironheart will never agree with it, she does appreciate that at least he gave her way a go. He dabbled, sowed his wild oats - at least he's experienced life before he gives it up. "I understand. I won't lie, I'd hoped that I'd freed another man from the chains of monogamy and let him fly away into a world of sin, but I know it's not for everyone." Her gaze softens, and she looks at him through kind eyes. "She must be some woman," she observes, a hint of a grin on her face. Her gaze travels to little Libertad, wondering if he will listen to his mother's teachings and get himself a harem, or if he'll decide there's only one girl for him. And d'Arcy...will she keep herself nice for a husband, or choose her dam's path of strength above all?

The Glazier's final words bring a solemn nod to the silver's head. "And I would have been proud to call you their father." She sighs, wondering what could have been, musing on all the possible outcomes of her pair of dalliances. But, with a small shake of her mane, she looks back to Tembovu. "How are things going with you and your girl? If you don't mind me being a nosy bitch." She flashes a toothy grin.

A conquettish giggle leaves her lips. "You know me too well, my dear." She winks. But, too soon, the banter turns to seriousness as his grin fades. She watches as he nips his flesh, wondering if it's his sore ribs that ail him. She doesn't know he got more broken ribs in the last God battle, as she'd been far, far away - if she did, she'd have sympathy for the poor bastard and his abused ribs.

His words seem pointed, and she looks away, biting back a retort along the lines of not necessarily. Unless he watches his wife every hour of the day, he can never guarantee that she isn't sinning with another stallion. Monogamy does not always equal faithfulness. Nyx has lured monogamous stallions to her bed many times before - their lusts run deeper than the ties of an unnatural relationship, because, at the end of the day, men will be men. No doubt it goes the other way, too, happily-coupled mares getting tempted just once by the forbidden fruit of another. So, for all Tembovu knows, his beloved woman could be quite happily riding somebody else's train to pleasureville without him knowing, and could raise somebody else's bastard child under his name.

But she doesn't say that. She lacks tact, but knows that the retort she wants to make will not be one he wants to hear. He has chosen monogamy - there is no use in her pointing out that it doesn't guarantee his wife's foals will be his. This is an almost selfless gesture from the silver soldier, who would normally not think twice about pointing out the facts. She wants him to be happy, and if he thinks monogamy will guarantee all children will be his, then she doesn't want to shatter that. "True," she manages to force out, forcing cheer into words that taste bitter on her tongue.

Her question causes his ears to flex and his gaze to avert, which is proof that his relationship probably isn't going well. The fact it's her foals that have caused their disharmony...it causes a twinge of guilt, even though she's pissed off at herself for it. She hadn't done anything wrong, and yet she feels bad. God dammit. "Ah," is all she can say. "I'm sorry to hear that." This time, her words are genuine. She considers him a friend, and wants him to be happy. If his lady love is what makes him happy, then she wants that for him. "How about I speak to her for you? Let her know that the children aren't yours, and make sure she knows that she has nothing to fear from me." Admittedly, looking the woman in the eye who has Tembovu so whipped would not be easy for her without wanting to scratch her face off, but it's something Nyx is willing to try for her elephantine friend.

He meets her gaze, and it lingers. The silver dislikes eye contact, and holds his gaze for just a moment before politely averting hers. Only predators stare, and it is a sign of dominance that the warrior rarely shows towards others, save her vanquished opponents and, occasionally, her children. He has defeated her, and therefore he is the highest ranked of the two of them, so it's her job to lower her gaze in a simple, instinctual act of body language.

His no! is ejected so forcefully that the grey almost recoils, ears flickering backwards. "Alright, calm your tits, it was only an offer," she says, her usual sharp bravado hurting the fact that she's actually slightly hurt at his downright rejection. He soons explains himself, though, and she relaxes with a nod. "Fair enough, I understand." His muzzle extends to touch her neck and she returns the contact with a gentle huff of air from her nostrils, swinging her tail contentedly to rid both of them of the persistent flies. In the cold, harsh reality of life, he is a good ally to have - strong, steady, stoic. But that's not the sole reason she likes him. He is a good friend, too, and she has painfully few of those.

She spares a glance to her children - making sure they aren't locating danger like the oh-look-it's-lethal bloodhounds they are - then looks back to Tembovu. "Seriously, though, if there's anything I can do, just let me know." She does not pledge her help to just anybody, but she means it. If she can help repair their relationship - even against her own better judgement - then she will.

He thanks her, and she smiles. "Anytime." After all, if she was the monogamous type, she likes to think he'd offer to do the same for her. He offers to leave her to her children, and she flashes him a toothy, more Nyx-like grin. "Until next time, handsome." His gaze meets hers as he departs and she holds it, despite her dislike of it. Then he's gone, off to do manly things within the herd. She follows him with her eyes for a long while, simply musing over what they'd said. She feels better for getting her apology off her chest, more able to move on with their friendship now that's out in the open. It's still a shame, though, to know their little dalliance is just a one-off. He's a taken man now.

His woman doesn't know how lucky she is.

She turns her attention back to her children, who happily frolic amongst themselves. She moves towards them, but not too close - best to give them space. There's nothing worse than having your mother gatecrash your games and cramp your style, so the silver dips her head to graze whilst making sure she never takes her eyes off the foals. One hint of danger, and she'll be over there like a stallion on a promise. Still musing over her meeting with Tembovu, the warrioress enjoys a rare few moments of downtime, content with nibbling the fresh grasses and observing the fruits of her womb as they play. They'll be over demanding milk and attention soon, she's sure - and she wouldn't have it any other way.