The sense of serenity that emanates from Taiga and envelopes Nayl is gentle as a swaddled newborn. It’s a different persona – a different world, even – from Nerine which is filled with passionate women and only a few sparse men. There remains the sense of sisterhood and of duty, but Taiga reeks of family and love. Unfamiliar to this, Nayl tries her best to understand them and to grasp the functionality of it all. Perhaps she is far too militaristic, too cold, to fathom a home of love and warmth. Reagan and her fellow alpha (king?) have a different perspective that has led to the creation of their sweetened home. There’s a different sense of the word leadership and there a honey and compassion dripping from her lips every time she speaks and when she turns her eyes to drink in the sight of her home.
”You love it here,” she observes fondly, ”in a way that I’ve never seen in anyone else.” There is adoration in Regan’s voice and comfort in knowing what they have accomplished. ”And you love children,” an airy chuckle slips from her as Nayl’s eyes drink in the small boy then to Jinju and back. Never having been a mother, she is almost worried for herself. Is there something in the air here to increase fertility? A humored shudder run downs the length of her spine. The familial tie here is more closely related to a wolf pack than the solitary livings of jaguars that the Amazon’s once boasted in their home. Funny how different each land can be and which habits they adopt.
To think of Nerine’s drastic difference draws Nayl into her own protected thoughts. There has been turmoil and mutiny, deceit and lust. It’s exactly as the Jungle had once been, but now their home is a coast and no longer shielded by a barricade of trees. She contemplates her ascension to the throne and the thick tension that was constructed upon her success. Unable (not wanting) to divulge in the specifics, Nayl formulates a response for when she blinks and meets Reagan’s eyes. ”Nerine,” she sucks in a slow lungful of air when she utters the name and remembers its beginnings, ”has a hidden strength that keeps me there. The power of the ocean, the lull of the waves lapping at the shore, the rocky cliff and sandy dunes.” Each puzzle piece plays its own role in the serenity and prowess of the land. ”It’s a mixture of the best attributes of past kingdoms,” except the Jungle, she doesn’t say. She misses the cover of the canopy and the screeching of the monkeys and the growling of the panthers.
”There’s a passion in the land that lives in us.”
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