An invisible brow rose when the tree marked stag answered her barb with a smirk, she should wipe that smirk off his face with a well timed snap of her teeth. She was used to such blatant responses from her fellow islanders, but mainlanders? not so much.

Perhaps it said enough that she considered them vastly different, to a degree that she referred to them as entirely separate, not that they once upon a time were all connected. They were born and bred to survive in the throng of heat and battle, while others pranced and paraded through tree's with pomp and grandeur.

Still, it provoked the veiled surprise to turn into probing curiousity, a gleeful chance of something else which span her thoughts one way and the next. Nephele chose to wear an indifferent face while she regarded him with a cooled expression, glittered gold and piercing ice continued to prod and press over his frame.

"Even outside the Throat? What ever can you mean"


It was her turn to smirk at his sly retort, the vixen sported a vivacious smirk as her head tilted to the side, curled hair falling to hide her blue eye. "Don't play coy with me, little stag." She took his thorny jibe about the Throat in her stride, though it wouldn't have hurt to had some of that fire magic they were infamous for possessing. She'd rather like to see him sweat as a wall of flame licked toward his heels, see him prance to her whims, they didn't make them in the Throat like they did on the main land. "You? Travel to the four corners of Helovia? Never. I don't believe you for a second." Over dramatic disbelief laced her words, and an amused flair laugh escaped her.

"Even the ladies? Surely a well traveled, well speaking gentleman like you would never speak ill of mares." There's a dangerous, ulterior glint in her eye as the words left her lilted lips. The well toned, spar hardened muscles beneath her obsidian pelt shifted as a hoof came to prop at the toe into the sand. She was surprising herself, the last time she'd engaged a man like this, she'd wanted to kick him square in the jaw for her indignation. This is different, as the annoyance bubbled with the once latent negativity which had silently hung on her shoulders, something else — a warmth she'd felt only once before had began to blossom within her like a small ember.

"Where do you think you're going?" She doesn't expect an answer to it, neither does she give pause to panic or question why she has that particular feeling again after so much heart break. It's all too easy to take flight and glide effortlessly after him on feathered sails until the palms and outcrop stop her aerial advancement. She landed once more, statuesque in her stance and a smirk on her ebony face, her eyes once more upon him. Too invested in this little game of back and forth, it's an outlet and she's not satisfied to be simply left hanging. "Not having fun? I didn't know mainlanders were so easy to back down, especially against such barbarians."