As I Walk Thru the Valley of Death[Nayl, Any]

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails ”Orion, you say?” She tastes his name, plays with it as her fiery eyes trail from his face, along his neck and back, to his haunches. It is rare, though not unheard of, for a male to arrive at their borders with an intention to stay. There had been those exceptions – Stillwater, Lior, Brennen, Simeon – but two of the four have left, one is the sire of the child standing at her side now, and the other is rallying what few fighters they have here. They have a purpose in this matriarchal society, but even now as they speak, her mind is tracing back to a concoction of ideas to further give the stallions incentive to stay (or try to). A coy grin presents itself across her pretty face, but its life is short as her gaze slithers back to his. ”I’m Nayl,” there’s iron in her voice, hardened steel as she drinks another lungful of salty air, ”your Queen should you stay.” The title is still like nectar on her tongue, addictive as the word slips from her lips. She always wanted to out-do mother, and she finally had with a wave of her hand. The mutinous act had been simple enough, the dethroning quick. There are days that she revisits the memory. Although she wanted more of a challenge – a better fight – it still led her to the desired outcome. The crown still settles nicely atop her head. With a regarding tilt of her head, Nayl indicates the boy who looks so much like her. ”And this is my son, Castile,” remember his name, she doesn’t say, because one day he will be great, too. ”Nice to meet you,” the child says with childish eagerness, but he is silenced by the whispered touch of his mother as she takes a step to the side. ”If it is Nerine you wish to live in, then follow me,” the doors are left agape, permitting his admission into her home. While her eyes remain trained on what lies ahead, Castile frequently glances over in-between steps to further scrutinize the stranger. ”Feel free to ask questions,” she adds as an afterthought while they travel toward the shoreline. Nayl covet and myrina's creation