Curiosity killed the cat. Well, not quite. But close. A lot died the day Indira's restless wandering took her off the island of Salem for the first time in her young life. It was one thing to wander into the neighboring Dunes, but it was another to let the sea take her to lands entirely unknown. There was no kindly Gabbar to take her home. It's been a wild ride, and these last few weeks have been the most intense.

Indira's heart beats a rapid rhythm in her chest. She's been gone a long time, and while she didn't imagine anything changing in the Desert in her absence, a shift in once familiar scents upon the breeze sets her nerves ablaze.

Ginger steps bring her to the edge of the oasis. In its still waters Indira can see her own haggard appearance. The gold in her coat is crusted with dried salt. Her long two-toned mane, hangs in dreadlocks about her face and neck. She still hasn't quite grown into herself. She has the rangy build of a Marwari, thanks to her mother, but there is still so much of her father in her face. What stands out now is the missing end to her right ear. The raw, jagged edge is still scabbed over and healing. She'll wear this mark as a reminder of all that she's accomplished over the last few weeks. Gone is the timid, but curious filly that once was Indira, and welcome now is a confident young mare. Naivety is no longer her middle name.

When familiar faces elude her, Indira calls out for them. "Mother? Father?"