They’re paddling up to shore, crumbling on the sand, gasping for air. Nayl has noticed how many of the Pangeans are arriving to her borders. They have venom on their tongues, vehemence in their eyes, as though it was her that was their downfall. She looks at them with judgment – a Caesar glaring at the expectant and hopeful gladiators – because she could easily pummel them and eject them from her borders. She could kill them if she was so inclined.
But she has suppressed her agitation, watching idly as they fathom what has happened and peer out to the ocean that has swallowed their desolate wasteland.
The mare is joined by a stallion after a shout demanding for something – someone – back. Nayl listens, her eyes half lidded and her head tilted half-interestedly. Their banter stirs her children from their rest in the cave. A glance behind her confirms they are still curled up together, not budging under the veil of shadows. They hold their silence, as does she, as her fiery eyes roll back to the pair not far ahead. She assumes they will leave, that they have other things on their agenda, but then she watches as the stallion disrupts the sand beneath the woman. It rolls and sinks, creating an uncovered grave.
”Get the fuck out,” she hisses as she steps toward the, now, cloud of black smoke and the mare deep in the hole. Her gaze is unyielding on what had been the obsidian male, her expression painted with disgust. Then she looks down at the mare. The sand shifts and returns to life, but it reaches slowly for the sky, lifting the mare from her tomb and bringing her level with Nayl.
There is no denying the stench of Pangea still trying to desperately hold onto their skin. Who else would mosey into her home uninvited, if not them. ”Your group has officially been weaned from Carnage’s teat. Now you can figure out your own damned lives. Congrats.” Their home had been handed to them, an effortless gift that they didn’t have to work hard for. They nursed from their foundation King, but now they scramble for something new while also trying to recover what they’ve lost.
”You’re in Nerine. Either live here or get the hell out for trespassing.” Her gaze flickers to see if the stallion is still here or if he concluded his brief time of taunting. ”So, what will it be?”
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