Desert

Firestorm had disappeared to foal months ago, but foaling had proven... complicated. She thought she wasn’t going to survive, and it had inspired her drive to see and experience more than what she had. The Islands hadn’t proven fruitful to her, at all, and defied everything she was taught about their way of life.

Stallions had proven to want little more to do with her than procreate. Temblor had been a decent enough, and a small part of her felt guilt for her abrupt departure. She’d been prepared to survive the harsher truths of life, but she was not prepared to meet another face to face and bare their shame or hurt. And so she stuffed it deep down, tossing it to that part of her mind where she didn’t have to immediately think about it. What Firestorm fails to realize, though, is that in all likelihood, it will catch up to her, for nothing in life went unanswered or unaccounted for in some form, shape, or manner.

It was an easy thing to do, because anytime her attention fell upon Ashfall, her entire world view changed. The sky was brighter, the day was vibrant and warmth swelled in her chest. The filly had grown out of her awkwardly long legs and soft velvet-like baby fur. She nearly matched her own height now, and her mane and tail had thickened in volume and length. Her sandy coat had given way to a ashy tone with warm golds radiating at her barrel, chest, throat and elbows. In truth, Ashfall looked like the aftermath of a firestorm; ashy, yet smoldering with fiery life that could rekindle at any given second. Her daughter was becoming a young lady, and it made her heart sink to think that Ashfall one day soon was going to set out on her own, similarly to how she had from her own mother.

…But morning had come, at long last.

Which meant that it was time to set out and begin their hunt for water. Firestorm approached Ashfall where she dozed in the shade, and pinched the girl’s hip with her teeth.The display looked more aggressive than it was. The girl jumped awake, her ears pinning under the shag of her black mane, her face pinched with aggression and the whites of her eyes flashing from the jarring wake-up call. Her heels bounced but she’d kept from kicking. It only takes a moment for her to register what had happened and that all was well. She flicks her tail with annoyance, only to deeply yawn, her jaws parting and opening as far as she could manage, while her tongue arched. After waking up and getting a start to her day, she’d have followed her dam, trotting to catch up, and then relaxing to a walk once close enough.

Together, the pair navigated this harsh terrain. For Firestorm, it was effortless; Salem was very familiar to her, and yet she’d never set hoof on this island. A part of her spirit seemed to sing and dance with nostalgia and so she started the morning out in good spirits. A rarity for Firestorm.

It’d have taken some time, but with Firestorm’s expertise, she was able to find she and her yearling a water hole, where both would have greedily began to drink. Their throats had been dry and hoarse and the water was an immediate tonic. Something within Firestorm’s gut twisted and pulled and she’d suddenly lift her head, ears pointed forward as she slowly swept her attention across the scenery, looking and smelling for anything out of the ordinary. She may have been familiar with the desert, but she was also in a terrain she knew nothing about.