Vihaan had been watching and waiting, knowing for certain that her father would keep his word and come for her. It made her restless, for she was desperate to learn of how her mother was faring. But despite this longing, and the circumstances that had brought her to the Desert, Vihaan was thriving. She’d established a level of trust and respect with Cain, and had survived birthing a healthy son, who was the most beautiful thing the dunalino mare had ever seen. He was with her now – a rare moment of silence and stillness that the noble-hearted mare would treasure forever. Akello was sleeping, and Vihaan stood beside him, observing his features as he dreamed, her eyes shining with all the love she felt for her boy.

It was in this moment that the call came to her on the desert wind, and she stirred, closing her eyes and raising her head, catching the scent of her father, faint but very real. Without hesitation, Vihaan turned to her son, and gently ran her soft whiskered lips down his neck, lipping at his softly spiked mane. “Come, my son,” she urged him quietly, and then took off at a pace that would accommodate the colt beside her.

Vihaan crested a dune and paused atop it, her mane caught by the wind as she looked down upon the two stallions. “Baba!” she cried joyfully, but only after Akello clambered up the dune beside her did she descend, skidding in a spray of sand into her father’s embrace. She breathed in deeply, comforted by his masculine scent. Her heart clenched at the faint traces of her mother’s perfume upon his skin, but she held herself together, and drew back, meeting his gaze with her bright copper-brown eyes.

“Father, I have missed you,” she murmured in his copper ear, before drawing back, and turning to Akello, encouraging him to step closer. “Come, my child,” she beckoned. “Come and greet your grandsire.” Vihaan was at ease between the two stallions, and though she was keenly aware of the apprehension in the air, she hoped that her own levelheadedness would keep Cain in check, and that her calm demeanour would serve to reassure her father that she was in good health and spirits, and that no harm had come to her during the time she’d been apart from him.

“Akello,” Vihaan spoke her son’s name after allowing some time for Shamwari to acquaint himself with the colt, and circled away from the pair of stallions with the colt at her side, pressing a kiss to her boy’s cheek. “Go and find your brother and sister. I will come for you later. Try not to get up to too much mischief,” she chuckled, and nudged him into movement. “Always remember that I love you.” She watched him depart, and after a few moments, turned back to her father and her lead stallion.

Vihaan returned to them, angling herself so that she faced both stallions, taking no sides in this matter between them, standing by her own strength, guided as always by her fierce and fearless heart. “He has kept the word he made to me,” she said to her father. “He has not harmed me, has not turned his eye towards our Home, and he proved to be there for me when I needed him most.” There was no pleading in her tone; she was not begging her father to accept Cain. Vihaan would never do that. The respect she had for her father was such that she would never seek to change his heart, nor ask him to deny himself. Just as she knew her own mind, Shamwari knew his, and he had a right to his opinions, his concerns and his questions.

Vihaan had spoken her truth, and now it was up to Cain. The answers her father sought could only come from the black and white king of the Desert. If he could prove his change of heart to her father, just as he’d proven it to her, then perhaps there would be an end to the unease between them. Especially in these tumultuous times, there was a need for allies and not enemies. Just as she had sacrificed her freedom to save her sister, so Vihaan now would do what she could to ensure the peace she had sought from Cain would not be cast aside, unless her father felt that peace with Cain was no longer in the best interest of his family.

Vihaan