never had a day go by we were sober
sitting in a cold room wide awake

Valencia had decided that she liked Salem.

She had been trekking across it for the greater part of that morning and, though her honey and milk complexion glittered with a thin sheen of sweat conjured up by the sweltering heat, she had enjoyed her brief tour of the island. It was very different to the Crossing she had lived on for so long now, and even further from the last murky, muddy territory she had visited, driven by her insatiable curiosity. The sand that covered the island reminded her of home.

Valencia was still wandering, unable to settle in one place or with one man as society dictated that she should. She had spoken with the charming Midas, but made no further attempts to contact him; she had ventured into the Lagoon with a daring confidence, only for her changeable attitude to takeover before any of the bachelors located her and claimed her as their own; and she had talked with the bold and brutish stallion who had tried his best to intimidate her. She liked to dance with danger and intrigue in her spare time, but she was still as bored as ever with her inconsistent stream of interesting company.

And so she had decided it was finally time to track down Encantador again.

It had been some time since their first meeting on the Crossing, when he had been a pitiful bag of bones—troubled and defeated. Since then she had gathered information, from eavesdropping on passing conversations and asking around, that Encantador now lived in the Desert. She hoped that having found a home was some indication that his life was back on track. Valencia couldn’t say that she knew her half-brother well, but she did care about him.

So that was why she found herself crossing the border into the unfamiliar, barren territory. It was as relentlessly hot here as it had been all across the island, but Valencia liked the heat, even though she could almost feel it resting heavily on her shoulders, tiring her more quickly. She did not venture far into the territory, preferring to meander aimlessly on the outskirts as she scanned the horizon for signs of life.

The gold-orange sand clung to her white legs as her footsteps made gritty clouds around her hooves.