If the task had to be given an official label, she could say she was on patrol, and giving it that name helped Meg feel better about it. The term conjured up visions on long hours and grueling drills—tasks that Meg, in her dedication, had never once complained about or shirked—but a casual walk along the beach with one of her best friends was a far cry from the intense patrolling she was used to. 

She and Cera walked together along the sands of the Heart-side of the southern strait. It had been a rather sedate stroll so far, and Meg was staring to wonder if Einarr had put her friend up to it. Though she loved him dearly, Einarr had become almost insufferable from the time she first began to show signs of her second pregnancy. Even now her sides had only just started to swell, but from the way the overbearing, primitive brute had been acting she might as well have been fragile as an eggshell. Even if her husband had orchestrated it, it was hard for Meg to feel annoyed about any time spent in Cera's company and so she let the suspicion roll off her shoulders and simply enjoyed herself.

A bellow pulled Megaera's attention from her friend to the stretch of sand ahead of them. At the sight of strangers on the beach ahead of them her relaxed form snapped to attention and she paused to survey the sight. Both figures ahead were unicorns, and neither had she seen before. Their focus seemed set upon the island out to sea, and that was enough to put her guard up. Perhaps she was too sensitive about threats to her home--these two posed no obvious threat--but at least today she could blame in on the maternal hormones. "An odd couple..." She observed, glancing at Cera with a conspiratorial smirk, "Let's see what they want." She stepped forward and out of her relaxed posture; lengthening her stride and picking up a bold trot to approach the unicorns. Her head swung low, ears back, in a snaking motion for a brief second; not enough to pose a threat but merely to demand attention from the studs on her shores. She exuded confidence, and why not, it may not be the Throat proper, but she was still on her turf. Her head raised again with neck arched, the feathers of her folded wings twitched to catch the light. This is my home boys, be on your best behavior

Her expression as she approached was not unfriendly, though she surveyed the pair with a pair of bold black eyes. They truly were an odd match, the pony all white and rosey while the grey cut a cold and domineering figure. Upon closer inspection Meg though she might have a guess as to who the taller might be. She'd had the brief description and the name from Gaucho and the Sultana was not sure she was entirely please to have anyone known as 'the Reaper' on her doorstep. "I wouldn't reccomend trying the swim, you'd drown far sooner that you'd touch sand." The little pink-tipped stallion might have been joing but she certainly was not; she didn't want Basin bodies washing up on her shores either. Bark eyes moved back to the cobaly blue of the taller figure. "You are Diemos, are you not?" The Sultana drew to a halt, placing herself almost symbolically between the stallions and the water. "I am Megaera, Sultana of the Throat. What is it that you and your friend seek on our shores?"

@Cera