it was not long before the scenery began to change. soon canyons and rock faces gave way to the cracked, dry earth of the desert, to the sunwashed, sparsely populated wastelands, and finally, to the ever changing, treacherous dunes. her desert guide had been with her through every leg of her journey, pushing her to continue on when all strength seemed to be gone. it had guided her through desolate landscapes and urged her to follow the path of the sun. she had gladly obliged, knowing it would lead her here safely. although this was her first time crossing salem, she had been a nomad for years, and her heart remembered the importance of speaking to the winds.

now dust covers her delicate pillars, staining them a deep rust color that the sweat serves to make more vibrant. her obsidian tresses are in wild disarray, clinging to her tired body with ruthless determination. she is thirsty and exhausted, but no worse for the wear, and her is blood is pumping with the excitement of exploring new lands. her stone grey eyes sparkle in the sun light, the granite orbs like otherworldly gems on her delicate face.

she is small of frame, and days without food or water only make her appear smaller. but her gaze is even and sure, she she does not breathe deeply like a winded fool. instead she sends up a proud bugle call, her voice steady and resounding. it is a beautiful sound, ringing like a bell throughout the seemingly empty landscape.

as she patiently waits to be greeted, she smiles to herself. though she resides under tuff luck in the badlands, her past belongs to the sand dunes of a far off land. being here, among the sea of sand, is enough to make her heart sing. though she stands proud and still, her mind races as memories pass through it unbidden. for a moment she is a child again, racing in the sun-warmed sand, her hooves kicking up dust and sending it flying into the atmosphere. she is older now, shading herself in a small, peaceful oasis. the rain begins to fall--the first time all year--and she is happy. then, she is running, being chased by a deadly sand storm, led on by a voice she cannot explain. saved by an entity surrounding her desert world. within the blink of an eye, she returns to present. her thoughts run rampant, and her breathing is unsteady. still, she is glad to be here--excited to be in familiar territory; ready to meet others like herself.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ancestry - m u s t a n g . painted - b u c k s k i n . seasons - f o u r . stands - f i f t e e n . tempered - w i l d . master - b i r d s o n g