The meeting had not exactly gone to plan, though it was not entirely unexpected that the call to action had be rebuked and earned the skepticism of her fellow herdmates, she had bore no ill toward them. Still, in her heart, there was a part which whispered that if they had been so discontent, so active in other divisions and so tired of the inactivity — why had they not spoken up sooner? why had they not already voiced the discontent and will which she had done? why had they not rallied around and formulated a plan of action and informed everyone else of their plans and what they had achieved in the droning silence?

Gaucho had left a gaping, smouldering wound in many hearts — including her own. Not to the degree of Sohalia or Ampere, his Khaleesi's of the Great Sands now widowers left to tend to their children and pick up the pieces of shattered lives. He had been great, fearsome and all consuming, and while his rugged wild beauty had not been lost on her, he had saved her once. He had chased after her would-be captor, stepped to her defense, he had fought in her stead and won. It was nothing romantic, she was not blind, but the awe and deep sense of debt she had felt, the respect had burned from her pelt in great rolling waves of fire. Then, the one confusing and exhilerating moment of passion they had when patrolling the flats had yielded the birth of her daughters. She mourned for them, she had seen silver and lavender eyes fill with sadness and remorse, the longing for a father who their first memory of was his last.

One thing she understood, at least, would be that Guacho would of not wanted them to linger and mourn for him. Would not want to be his death the reason they stagnated and floundered like drowning horses washed out to sea with scorched wings and anchor chained hearts. It left a sour taste in her mouth that this might be the excuse, or the reason some had, to simply drift in the breeze.

She had understood their skepticism, to a degree, why snap teeth and step on the one pegasus that had for no selfish gain and ill will, showed initiative and willingness to bring them back up from the depths? They wanted a new era, they required balance and they valued those stood up and wanted to prove their mettle — why did they go back to someone who had their time in the dazzling rays of the Gods Favor and the Herds Loyalty. She bore no ill will for Sohalia, one could not be condemned if they were not know personally. If everyone required credentials and a long list of achievements before they stepped on their founding road to greatness, she'd wager that not many would be where they were today. Herds would have never truly gotten off the ground, things would not have been built or decided. They had been given a chance, equines throughout Helovia had been given a chance despite their lack of greatness.

Nephele had stood unyielding despite everything thrown her way, had stood with her head held high and her heart and mind open — not broken and gaping — and had taken everything in stride. Now, as the crowds dispersed and the sun made way for his sister, she too ushered off her young ones to the safety of their nest for the night. Byron already a blackened silhouette whose showing off yielded him little more than an embarrassed squawk as he failed to glide up the dunes as his mother did. "Careful, I will not be digging you out of a dune, again." She called ahead, amusement woven tight into her words. "You nearly gave your brother a heart attack."


Nephele.

Ears flicked back as her step faltered, the voice still rang hot in her pierced ears. She turned as she drew to a stop, mismatched eyes settled on Sohalia's advancing frame with a curious glimmer within the jewels. She asked for a moment, and the Warrioress considered briefly what there was to talk about. A lot, she imagined, they had stood on opposite sides of the board but were united in their love and determination to care for the land and members they called home and family. "Of course." Briefly, her head turned back to her foals. "Byron, take Jude back to the nest." Her tone was authoritative but warm, the boy gave her a quizzical look but decided not to press it like he usually did, and after the colts had disappeared over the top of the dune, she returned her attention to the pale mare.

"What do you need?" She asked, not botheried to hide her curiosity on the matter of why she was being stopped. Instead, she settled into a patient silence to allow the other to speak, patience which she hadn't possessed until lately, and she had her children to thank for that.




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Such was the way of the world, and such was the way of the Dragon's Throat. They were built upon the backs of sweat and blood, tempered with fire and haloed by the sun. It would be too much, and too arrogant to believe that one could merely swan in and stake claim. That was why she had called the meeting, to drum up support and prove that she had the metal and the guts to be the roaring voice which struck out when words could no long satisfy. Balance was always needed and balance had been broken. While her opinion of the champagne Sultana had dwindled to a paltry offering of tolerance. She had been raised to be the diplomat, the Sun had chosen to elect her for the lack of warrior's bones which her flesh clung to. A healing light, as she had said — Sikeax had gone against the very reason the Sun had blessed her with a crown. It had been all too convenient for her to reappear at that moment after such a long winded absence without reason, too convenient to cast her mantle aside and take up the one that was empty. It was definitely convient for the Unicorn to try and unceremoniously remove the only one that had spoken up and dared to call her into question without owning up for her crimes. 

Sohalia hadn't earned the ire, and the disdain which Nephele treated those who had earned it with a pitiful tolerance level.

"It had to be done." She responded with a roll of her feathered shoulders, it should of been done sooner. Alas, she may have had, if life had not took her down the road to motherhood. An ironic thought is spared to the wingless gladiator, who dared to call her absence from the arena into question and further still her absence from the Threshold. If he looked past the end of his own nose, he might've seen the babes she had at foot, and the last lingering curvature which clung her hardened muscles — indications that she had been with child. Even then, without her appearance in the arena, it had remained empty because he had perhaps spent too much time on the mainland and the threshold — and had little to show for it for either of it. "No one else had dared, or had the courage to do so." The darker mare added after a moment of silence, her wings shuffled neatly at her sides. Sohalia's words at them not being as stagnant as she had said drew her maw into a thin line, but rather than let her voice cut across, she allowed her to finish.

"We are only as strong as our weakest link. We prided ourselves upon all that we achieved, and our military prowess." She began, a snorted sigh vibrated gently against the ring which decorated her nostrils. "I mean no ill will to yours nor our diviners efforts, though a quiet progression is no progression at all. We are not more wholesome for a church nor an academy which we know nothing about until we stumble upon it, or if it is a foot note in a passing conversation. How are all supposed to know what is happening, when those who are acting do not speak up and declare that there is movement? How are we supposed to protect that which is being built upon, when there is no one to guard it? We are stagnant, not to an extent where all is stopped. But enough that most are blind and unknowing." A nod is added that it was not Gaucho's nor their way, to see all which they and those that came before had worked so hard to raise up. "It is not just our warriors who are suffering. There have been thieves who have crossed our borders and made off with trinkets, our items are unguarded and there was not the sleuths to stop them, nor the fire power to catch them if they had been caught. It is also the healers as well. There are no healers blessed with the sun's magic, and there are wounded in the throat. We cannot have our warriors, what little there is, patrolling and fighting if there is no healers to bolster them."

Nephele stopped herself after that, a twinge of emotion bleeding through which surprised herself. A gentle emotion, not of her usual self. Not one she would share normally. "How are mares supposed to give birth without the knowledge that there will be someone to help them, if something goes wrong? You are a mother, no?" The question is peppered even more with it, a mother looking for another who did not only have themselves to look out for, but the future of those who would walk after they had gone to the beyond. "I prayed to the Sun God both times I was with child, and he saw it fit to deliver my children safe to me. What if he had not answered my prayers? There were no healers at my side when my daughters were born, perhaps it was because their father was beloved of the Sun that they pulled through, I do not know. What I do know was I delivered them alone. The ranks were barren when my sons came into the world. I ask myself, what would have happened if something had gone wrong then? I would buried my children, and perhaps myself would of perished."

A breath is let out that she hadn't realized she had been holding, held to fight back and supress the onslaught of feelings which assaulted her. The warrioress' head lifted higher then, long trailing tail lashed as it coiled around her hooves. A blooming flower of fire within her chest burned brighter as she looked Sohalia in the eyes. "It is not our way to be so broken, I agree." Broken off to utter a laugh when the pale woman admitted she was not a warrior. "Perhaps you are not, but it can never hurt to be wise on how to defend and escape your opponents, no? In the coming days, I would be welcome to spar with you." It is offered with a small smile, the corners of her war painted lips turned upwards enough to make a difference.


Sohalia's words that they should be working together hit a chord with her, not a chord of displeasure, but one of intrigue. Why shouldn't they work together? Just as she had stopped to listen to the pale mare for the fact they both wanted the same thing. Why couldn't they put their minds together and put a plan into action. "I would suggest appointing new healers first, not only so that our warriors can do their job without worrying if they can or can not treat the wounds sustained, but for the health of the herd in general. We are strong, but we are not made of stone or iron. Then, we look at getting our Gladiator to focus upon training his warriors, rather than spending his time upon the mainland and in the threshold. He is wasted there when he has duties here that he should be attending to. It's no good bringing, or trying, to bring home new family members if we cannot protect them." Her voice is laced with determination as she listed the suggestions off to the other mare, her odd eyes alight and glittering. "We need to be assigned sparring partners, so that our arena is put to good use, so we may brush the rust from our bones. Bolster and strengthen what little of us the Throat has at her disposal, before we recruit and train more. It would be unwise to inflate the ranks when there is already a red flag waving above our heads. It would also be a good point to send out patrols again, what little warriors we have can be spared to high interest lands with those patrolling. There is a creature lurking in the deeps. I have seen it, and I know not if it is benevolent or if it wishes us the ill fate the Rift Gods did. I would not have us unaware in case it is like them."





Talk Talk Talk

Neph herself wouldn't have called herself impatient, in the first rolling weeks of silence which had followed after Sikeax's ascension to Sultana, she might have owned being thought of as impatient. She had been chomping at the bit, despite finding herself pregnant and now responsible for four lives, to get back into the heat of things. The Guardian had expected the new leader to take everything firmly within her hooves and own it, she had been given a task so great that she could have done brilliant things for them. True, she had been confused at first, when the news had reached her ears of the Sun appointing a Healer in the wake of a strong ruling pair of Warriors. She hadn't questioned it further, however, she had trusted that the God had seen something in the mare that made her worthy. Instead, it seemed Sikeax had crumbled and withered, and so had many things in her wake.

If she had to declare herself anything, if she had to pin a glaring red marker on what her emotions accumulated into at this moment. It was sick and tired, frustrated and annoyed.


"It never hurts to know that another agrees with you." She retorted with a rasped laugh, odd coloured eyes glimmered with mirth at her words, but the light was soon lost when asked how these thieves had intruded upon their members and made off with their belongings. "The honest answer? I do not know." She admitted with a sour look upon her chiselled features. "As to the identity of the thieves, that is something I don't know either. The lack of knowing infuriates me. Opportunists maybe? They could wait until we are no longer in the Throat, or maybe they do have a key? There have been departures from the Throat how have keys in their possession no doubt. Our lack of Sleuths until recently and interactions with other herds have left us without knowledge of who or what to look out for." The more she spoke about it, the more her features became dark and storm ridden. She disliked the casual, even flirty disposition some in Helovia had toward the slippery profession. "Miseal has vanished, though we now have Ophelia to help keep our belongings safe, I fear that with Gaucho passing, it has invited thieves and kidnappers to dream of taking from us once more." It's an honest observation followed by her best guess as to why their items were now being picked at. Gaucho had charged like a comet composed of the sun's flames toward those who had tried and failed, to retake and remind them that to take from them. It had screamed stealing would not be met with complacency in the desert sands, now he was gone, and likely the news had spread that the Wildfire burned no more by now — they were taking their chance.

"I would like to know that reason, but I have a feeling he would not tell me, even if I asked." She's amused by the idea, at least, that there could of been a reason why the Sun hadn't bestowed his healing touch. It was a stretch, their ranks were barren. What good would it do to leave his patron herd injured and to the elements? "Still, it's not a pleasant chance we are forced to take, even with the odds stacked that there will be few born this season." Foals were going to be born, and she'd feel better about it that their was healing aid available to them and their mothers. "May I come along, when you seek Maren out? I would like to hear her guidance and advice as well. "


"Ah, that is but a graze! It will heal, and the soreness will fade. The path to becoming a warrior, or learning to defend yourself is not an easy one. I can make a warrior of you yet, Sohalia. If not, then at least I can teach you how to kick them in the mouth and make a run for it." She chuckled, the brightness back within her eyes once more. In all honesty, she's glad for the easiness of the conversation despite the severity of some parts, they have not traded blows nor taken to spitting verbal warfare. If anything, she's truly glad that there is another amidst all the bad which has now descended upon them, that wanted to lift them up into the light once more.


Sohalia's hummed approval only added to the ease, and the idea that the two of them could work together well. She had listened, and appeared to have taken everything on board while quickly formulating answers and suggestions of her own. All of which, Nephele too uttered her own noise of agreement. "Indeed, they are needed to lead and tutor their assigned ranks. They need to be focused upon that first and foremost, it is a shame that it isn't at the front of their minds anymore." If they slacked, then they all would pay for it, however big or minor the fault lines would be. The state of the Warriors was a testament to that. "That would be ideal, to have a patrol dedicated to recruiting and keeping newcomers safe when coming into Helovian lands. Maybe it would be a point to pair members up in patrols permanently, rather than changing every season. It would allow them to get to know each other, the land and any oddities that may or may not appear since the last time they visited. Oddities those that are not familiar with the land would pass over without knowing the significance." The tone changed soon enough, the pale mare appeared to steel herself within her gaze as her own gold and icy hued orbs met them in return. We should be working together, yes they should, the answer is a whispered ghost in her mind at first — her own eyes alight as it took root. Yes we should be, her eyes replied before her maw parted to confirm their fiery response. "We will do great things for the Dragon's Throat, together."



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