Sure, being pregnant during the long winter months hadn't been a party either, what with the lack of food and constant bone-biting cold. But at least she wasn't sweating her ass cheeks off, too hot to do anything but flop around in the shade all day and desperately try to rid herself of the flies that seem to think her skin is a five-course banquet. Food is plentiful, at least, but the heat exhausts her. Her swollen sides gleam with sweat, and her movements are lethargic and half-arsed.

Sunrise today finds her lazing beneath a tree in the meadow, seizing her chance to eat before the heat gets unbearable. Her appetite fades when she's hot, and her unborn child needs sustenance, so she desperately fills her belly during the morning and evening hours when the sweltering temperatures are marginally more bearable. Dominus is suffering just as much as Nyx, with his thick mane and great size, but unlike her he has to motivate himself to move in order to hunt. Ah, sweet herbivore perks: her food stays where it is, whereas her lion has to hunt his down and kill it.

She flicks her long black tail lazily to bat away the flies whilst she lays on her rotund side in the shade of a large oak. Her pregnancy is quite obvious; again, she is either carrying a large foal or twins. The latter would not surprise her, as she produces the fuckers like they're going out of fashion. With a languid yawn, the mare continues to nibble at the grass, whilst Dominus gnaws on a dead rat next to her.

The approaching pegasus seems friendly enough (which is a relief - the General may be assured of her capabilities on the battlefield, but she would be worse than useless in a fight in her current condition, unless she could somehow body-slam her opponent) and asks if Nyx would like some company. "Of course," says the grey pleasantly, dipping her head in an affirmative nod to the other. She shuffles her considerable girth sideways, making some more space in the shade beneath the tree. "Here, you can get out of the sun. It's not even fully up yet and it's still hotter than the pits of hell." She gives a disgruntled sigh. Is there any need for it to be so hot?! It makes her irritable, fuelled by her current condition. But she isn't intending on taking it out on this stranger - perhaps the company will do her good, take her mind off her pregnancy. She can't remember a Tallsun this sweltering in a long, long time.

But thinking about her discomfort only makes her grumpy, so she shakes it off and tries to focus on the one who is accompanying her. "I'm Nyx, General of the World's Edge. Who're you?" Her tones are friendly, if a little exhausted. She isn't the only one; either her eyes deceive her or this other mare looks like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, too.

The pegasus introduces herself as Sohalia, from the Dragon's Throat. "A pleasure. What's it like in the Throat? I've never been there before, but I may be giving birth just inside the borders." The thought of delivering her child outside the Edge again is not something she's ever considered, nor something she finds overly appealing. She is very fond of her home, and after giving birth in the wilderness last time, she'd hoped to return to home comforts this time. But, she reasons, Gaucho deserves to see his foal being born, and delivering it under his protection is certainly appealing. No fool would dare attack her with the Wildfire stood nearby, a great hulking rock of power.

So this Throat mare is an ideal opportunity to find out about the land she's going to temporarily enter. She's lived in the Edge throughout her time here, and visited the Basin with Deodat once, but the other two herds are a mystery to her. Sohalia asks if the Edge is this bad, and the silver nods. "It isn't, unfortunately. Usually we have the sea breeze to take some of the heat away, but this season seems to be devoid of even that. It's sweatier than an asscrack, if you'll pardon the analogy." She flashes a grin, shifting slightly to ease some of the weight on her colossal sides.

The pegasus then congratulates her, and she smiles. "Thank you. This isn't my first child, but I confess that I'm rather excited by the prospect of him or her." She doesn't elaborate; truthfully, she's excited for a number of reasons. One, that with such a powerful sire, they have true potential running through their veins, potential that could carry them to greatness. But it's also because with Enyo, Libertad and d'Arcy's disappearances, the only foal she really has left is Oizys - and to the rest of the Edge, Oizys isn't actually hers. With this child, she intends to do things properly. It will grow up well-balanced and loved, the apple of its mother's eye. "Have you any children of your own?"

Sohalia elaborates on the Oasis, and the silver nods. "Thank you, I appreciate the advice. I'm rather worried that I'll turn up on the borders and be chased away by protective herdmembers who think I'm just some random fat woman come to steal their supplies." Oh, the shame of that!

The other then asks who the father is, and Nyx shifts slightly. She loves a good gossip as much as the next woman, and she's almost bursting with the desire to tell somebody that she banged the Wildfire, but is it wise to broadcast such a thing? He might not want it to become common knowledge...but he didn't strike her as the sort of man to be ashamed of fatherhood, and from what she'd gathered, he is no stranger to it. So, with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye, she reveals all to her newfound friend. "His name is Gaucho. I believe he is the Throat's king. We met many years ago, then happened to....ahem....bump into each other again quite recently." Literally bump.