I'm your Queen, you're my Ruler.
She wasn’t aware of the fact that their views on this mutual agreement were different. He had offered her a position, a title, and she would gladly accept it. But to Esileif it was only a temporary solution. She couldn’t say she disliked Fynnegan, he had only been kind to her (even though she hadn’t been that nice to him), yet that didn’t meant Fynn and his herd could give her that what she wanted. To the bay and faint orangey white mare this was a perfect solution though. Esileif would have a title, a home, and something to grow in while she could take her time to decide on the winning side of the war.
Her two toned eyes take their environment in as she let the short stallion lead her to her new – yet temporary – home. She hadn’t seen that much of Beqanna thus far, but if she wanted to achieve something within a kingdom it would become handy if she knew how to navigate around. Meanwhile she listens to the things Fynnegan tells her about the Dale, another kingdom in these lands. ”That does sound to fit you, Fynnegan” she kindly replies, already managing her mask of statue much better than before. With her heart and mind at ease for now that had become much easier.
Hearing his question she cannot help but look at the short dark male with an amused grin. ”What did I say to make you think that?” she asks, her head tilting a little to the side. Her eyes don’t leave his, yet her white (faint orangey white) and bay ears keep alert for the sounds around them. ”I grew up in the Mourning Mountains. If I’m correct those lands are a part of the Chamber. My father ruled the mountain herd during my youth” she continues after a short pause, answering his question after first having asked hers.
It was as if they crossed some invisible border, yet the way Fynnegan changed and showed his pride made it clear for the Spanish influenced mare to know they had arrived. Curiously she takes everything in – although she may not look like it with all the masks and appearances, she still is a young girl in her heart – and Esileif can only admit that the herd land is almost just as pretty as the Gates. It was truly beautiful and she wouldn’t mind to spend some time here. ”It’s gorgeous” she tells him, turning her head back to look at him with a small smile upon her lips. ”What do you seek in herdmares?” she asks, partly out of curiosity, partly to learn more about him and his intentions.
Esileif