It had been so quiet in the recent months. Too quiet. Besides, of course, from the music of the waves and the wildlife, and the whispering of the changing winds. He hadn't seen much of Naga, nor much of anyone else for that matter. It had set the bay roan stallion on a restless edge. He had spent the winter in the wooded areas of the land, reminiscing and also surveying Nerine and all her hiding places. There didn't appear to be much else to do, and it kept him busy at the very least; memorizing the paths through the trees and the locations of freshwater pools and streams running down to join with the ocean. He was grateful for the Spring warmth that had begun settling slowly over the land, the sporatic showers lending to the soil and aiding the growth of green lushness all about (other than on the beach itself, of course). The land was truly lovely, one to be desired for sure, and he was certain he wasn't the only one to think so.

He had heard whispers on the wind, more than just the changing of the seasons, but apparently also a potential change in leadership. The painted mare called Nayl had sought to take the throne. Not that Sim could truly blame her, after the several months of quiet that had fallen over the terrain. Not after the seeming absenteeism of their panther queen. Their numbers seemed to be dwindling, and he'd found that to be terribly unfortunate. He loved Naga, like a little sister, and had promised to stand beside her and personally watch her come to her potential. He had been so full of pride for her when he'd come to learn she was queen, and had high hopes of what she would bring her queendom to be. Don't get him wrong, he's not disappointed in her now, but he- probably as well as others in the herd- began to think perhaps she wasn't quite ready for the position. Her disappearance hadn't helped. Nor did the fact that she didn't have much support from her people. Simeon had promised to stand beside her, though, and he would. Every step. Even if she came back from the challenge and lost. It didn't mean the end, for her. She could rise again, no matter which way the chips fell. He would be there for her regardless.

Dawn on the coast was truly one of the most wonderful sights to see. It is one of his very favorites, even of everything he had seen on his many travels. The sunrise on this beach especially took the cake; made all the better by being his. His home. A hint of concern turned his typically smiling face into a bit of a frown as he wondered how Nayl would change things if she won the crown. He doesn't worry whether she will be a good queen, or even a not so good one. No, instead he wondered what she planned to do about his presence among the women here. He simply can't fathom being turned out, although he does not know how well he would take becoming a man slave. The roan stallion shook his head to clear the thoughts away. A short time would tell what would soon become of the coastline of Nerine. For now, he continued his patrol, generally relaxed features with a low headset as he meandered down to the gray shores, sidling along the banks and walking the length. He enjoyed his time here the most, with the saltwater gently lapping at his hooves now and again. No sense in ruining it with troublesome thoughts.

His state was indeed tranquil, head level and tail swishing now and then with the breezes over his hocks. His mismatched eyes, each bearing resemblance to each of his parents, scan over the sky and the reflected colors on the ocean's surface. The water matched his mood, calm and smooth with the occasional ripple from the low winds. The sound of the tide softly lapping the gray shores was the most soothing. Somewhere in the distance, a whale breeched the surface and expelled its long-held breath. His gaze drank it all in, and he breathed deep the salty air, allowing his mind to be mostly clear when the painted mare of his former thoughts stepped up behind him. As he'd been mostly subdued in the bliss and peace of the dawn, and the breezes blew in from out on the water, he had neither heard nor smelled her approach. So when her sultry voice reached his ears, they snap to the sound and he lifts his broad head, turning his neck to view her. Her voice isn't unwelcome in the peace surrounding him, so the only notion she has caught him off guard was the snapping of his ears. He isn't normally so oblivious to the happenings around him, but perhaps he has gotten too accustomed to the quiet in the land.

"It truly is." He responds in kind, his smile soft and open, his bicolored eyes warm. Lazily, he swings his marred hindquarters away from her so that he can face her at an angle. She gives her name and the bay roan dips his handsome head to her, respectful as always. "Buongiorno, Nayl. It is good to finally meet you in person. I am Simeon." His tones are smooth, masculine and deep, Italian accent giving his words a lilt. Of their own accord, his eyes travel over her frame. The lovely contrast of smokey black meeting patches of white over lush curves of muscle and bone. It is a quick once-over, one that ends with him looking at her face. Both feminine softness and fierce edges, with fiery amber eyes to top it off. He has scented her before, more than a few times, maybe even before the reckoning, though now he can put a face and a name to it. They are both from the Jungle, both residents of Nerine, but he knows he would remember her if they'd ever met prior to this.

Everything about her draws him in, but he is careful not to let it show on his face. He senses she is not the most comfortable around him, and he couldn't have her thinking that the stallion before her was a mindless buffoon who only thought with one area of his body. Sim has experienced attraction before, knows how to resist temptation. Respect first, always. Even if she is quite possibly one of the most striking and beautiful mares he has laid eyes on. The flapping of wings off to the side, back over the ocean, draws his attention away from her, a welcome distraction as he locates the same pelican she watches catching its breakfast and then sweeping off in the distance. He, like her, follows its direction until it almost disappears from view, glorying in the scene of nature before she asks what's on his mind and he turns his brown and green gaze back to her.

He mulls it over for a moment, collecting the gist of his recent thoughts in his mind and deciding what to say. Finally, he rolls a muscular shoulder and sighs lightly. "I was thinking how quiet it's been here lately. And about change. And what's going to become of the sisters who had once stood so strongly in the Jungle." And whom he thought had rallied here, he doesn't say. Sim doesn't want to bad mouth Naga, will not speak ill of her. But Nayl had asked what was weighing on him, and he finds himself being open and honest with her. Til now he had held her autumn gaze steadily, but then it slides back out to the beach and out once more to the water. His voice gains a bit of weight as he reflects. "This bella costa is a good home for the former Amazons, and we have Naga to thank for it. It's full of potential, I believe, but one it hasn't found. I wonder if our queen was a bit unprepared for the crown." She hasn't failed, as she probably believes, but Naga is inexperienced and unfortunately, it seems to be a hindrance to her rule.

Simeon can't help but wonder how things would be if his mother, Scorch, was still alive today. Perhaps she could have guided her adoptive daughter, his adoptive sister, on the ways of running things. Although, admittedly, the fiery woman could have stirred a lot of things up. It was an amusing thought, one that tweaks one corner of his lips upward before he shakes it loose. He wonders how she and Hestoni would have handled the Reckoning, how they would have liked the coastline carved for them by Beqanna herself. Unfortunately, he would probably never know. With a deep inhale, he returns his attention back to the woman before him. She seems strong, fierce and willful. Perhaps just the one Nerine needed to make it great. "What will you do if you win the crown, signora?" He finds himself asking, because he can fight the curiosity no longer.