Her day was done, or at least the portion of it that she'd looked forward to least; greeting new members at the bridge. Of course, Megaera was happy to preform her duties as sultana, and she had had quite enough of new members cropping up without her knowledge, but loitering on the northern shore was often dreadfully dull. She would have much rather spend those hours with those she already knew and loved. With late afternoon arrived, the Sultana had taken off her official hat for the day and made her way back to the Oasis to enjoy time in the embrace of her family, though ,much to her chagrin none of them seemed to be about when she arrived. 

Megaera touched down at the edge of the lake in the her of her territory, the sound of her hooves muffled by the softness of the ground. With a shake, she sent droplets flying off her, even if she'd soon be covered in water again; the heavy rains had eased since that morning, the the overcast skyes still continued to shed a fine mist over Dragon't Throat. Orangemoon was continuing its wet reign with no sign of relinquishing it's throne to dryer weather and the Oasis showed it: the lush greenery had revived itself from the summer and the lake was higher that she had ever seen it. Eager to be out of the wet, the mare moved to the shelter of the Great Tree. She gave another shake, the tremor running along her spine and right out to the furthest tips of her wings. With a final glance around to be sure all was well, she set to cleaning the long feathers.

If Meg was disappointed that she was the first in her little family to arrive at home-base for the day, she tried not to let it bother her too much. The twins were growing ever more independent, but they'd come and find her when their fun was done (and well before dark) as they always did. If Ampere had set Einarr on patrol, he'd either begin or end it from the warrior's usual check-in point nearby, and she'd be able to see from her current vantage point. Gwaihir was huddled in his nest across the lake, sullen and sulky from the weather and more unsociable than ever and Meg wasn't keen on exposing herself to much to his negative energy. Sure, she always longed for the sun to shine, but the rains now would mean there would be more sustenance for her growing herd through the winter and so she'd been trying to make the best of it. 

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[ooc: For @Einarr <33]

The call was like the distant rolls of thunder, deep and powerful, but it’s effect on Megaera was quite the opposite. Thunder promised rain and for the fiery mare was as good as a depressant but that voice, Einarr’s voice, was a stimulant, a jolt to the system, the lightning in the storm. A smile spread across Megaera’s face before she even turned her head and for a moment she merely grinned into her own feathers. All it took was that voice, her name on his lips to give her that heady rush of excitement and she was ginning like a filly in a field in birdsong flowers. She lifted her head from under a wing and locked her dark eyes in him in an instant. No one could ever have accused Meg of being the fanciful sort, but even she couldn’t suppress the subtle sigh of pure appreciation. Even on a gloomy day such as this, he was resplendent. Black and bold and powerful, the storm clouds might well have been the smallest puffs of smoke compared to him. Of course the physical form of the black bloodrider always excited her, but that buzz was only part of why Meg was so pleased to see him; the warmth that rose in her heart at the sight of him was just as good. Steadfast, supportive, he was he a guardian of her home and the father of her children, and he was hers.

“Einarr!” Her voice was filled with warmth and welcome, and she jumped into a trot herself to greet him, not minding in the least that she left the shelter of the great tree to do so. She stopped when they drew near each other and immediately reached for an embrace. Reaching up she moved her face to rub along his chin and tuck itself under his neck. There she held for a moment, a contented sort of hum in her throat, before pulling back again so her dark eyes  could find his rusty ones. “Did you seen the twins on your way in? They shouldn’t be too far, but you know how our son likes to explore.” There wasn’t any worry in her voice—she’d at least put the kibosh (she thought) on the two little ones leaving the Throats borders—and so her grin was a contented one.

The description of their children closely and ensconced in their usual games did indeed settle any residual jitters left in the Sunspear’s mind. A busy mother was entitled to reservations, when beginning to leave her young ones to their own devices; they would not be babes forever, and she would have to learn to let them alone for these longer stretches. Bold Nizho, gentle Asavvi. Megaera trusted that they would find their way back to her at day’s end.

She started to reach forward again, ready to resume the lazy grooming that the pair indulged in during their rare quiet moments together, but Einarr was already taking his own step back and so she tucked her chin to watch him, dark eyes smoldering in the provocative and teasing gaze only he received. His brow was lifted and the stud positively burst with evident pride and Meg waited, thinking she could guess what was coming.

"Einarr Gladiator.”

Of course, there was no one better. She smirked a bit herself, amused at his expression of satisfaction and determined, at least for a moment, to take this opportunity to tease him a bit. Her chin lifted, and she gazed down her nose at him for a few breaths of a moment “I suppose you’ll do a decent job.” For a moment she held that stance, her own brow arching slowly as if she was scrutinizing his ability to live up to the title. It soon broke though, and she grinned in earnest, beaming at the stallion with a pride that matched his own. Of course he would be Gladiator, none matched his drive or dedication and Meg (though she knew Ampere to be a fierce fighter in her own right) was more comfortable with someone a little less volatile at the head of the Throat’s fighters.

Her laughter was low and easy, ready to soothe any ruffled feathers from her mate if he mistook her jest. She moved forward, closing the gap (that damnable gap) between them. Her neck pressed into his own and she nipped at the inky blackness along his withers. “Yer hash eves lajak, akka jin haj mahrazh, fin tikh Gladiator fin vo yer? She purred the words into his skin thinking he would appreciate the shift to his language. What woman shouldn’t stroke her man’s ego when he deserved it? Anna Einarr, ajjin jin vezhven ki khasar.”

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Translation
“Yer hash eves lajak, akka jin haj mahrazh, fin tikh Gladiator fin vo yer?" - "You are a fierce warrior and a strong man, who would be Gladiator if not you?"
"Anna Einarr, ajjin jin vezhven ki khasar." - "My Einarr, greatest of the (generals/bloodriders)."