Days like these made Eliska feel alive.

Ever since her run-in with the strange yellow travelers, she'd had a thirst for adventure. She had envied the visitors, watching them leave and wishing she could follow them along. They had seemed so free, living life carried by the breath of the wind... The filly was young still, but the urge to wander ran deep in her blood. She could hardly fight it - and truthfully, she didn't want to. The whitesplashed mare wanted to explore, to venture past the emerald sea of her home to whatever lay beyond. When the sun set on the horizon it called to her, begging her to chase it.

So when Acorn had mentioned visiting some other parts of Salem, she lost her small resolve and gave in fully. And it was exhilirating.

She had charged after the sorrel mare at first, and managed to hold her own for a time, but slowed to a gentle trot when they were fully out of the Hills, deciding to take her time. Her brown eyes stared around her in all directions, taking in the scenery. This place - the Desert, she assumed - was like her homeland, and yet it was strangely different: the land rolled as the Hills did, but instead of soft grass beneath her hooves there was gently-shifting golden sand. If she thought home was hot, this place was worse, but the air didn't stick to her skin here, and it made the higher temperatures more tolerable. The sun beat down on her back, and her body glistened with a sheen of sweat, but she found that she didn't really care. She was too wound up to care.

Eliska may have slowed her pace, but she kept close to Acorn, and she twisted her curved ears to catch her companion's speech. "Papa says the Desert borders home," the filly replied, speculation in her young voice. Papa also said they were allies, and when she'd asked what being allies meant, he'd told her they were simply good friends. And since they were among friends, she found herself completely comfortable, even though she and Acorn were hours away from home.

Her small body kept up with the older mare's easily, though the sand was odd to walk on. She longed for some water, but all she saw was sand, sand, and more sand, stretching in all directions for as far as she could see. Papa had told her, once, that in very dry places, there were certain spots to be found that were rich in water and greenery. An oasis, he'd called it. Did the Desert have any of those? And where were they? Perhaps they might find signs of life around them. The golden sea was beautiful, but it was vastly empty.

"D'you think anyone lives here?"

From the look of things, probably not.