Laurel made her slow way through the cold ocean waves back to the island of Salem. Just why she was returning she had no idea. She hated the notion of the sand again getting stuck in every tiny crevice of her body, of the heat baking her skin dry, parching her lips, even sucking the moisture out of her eyeballs. In fact, several times as she struggled against the choppy water, she debated turning back. However, once she was about halfway to Salem there was no second-guessing. Not today.

Once on the shore of the territory where she had spent such a short time, she inwardly groaned. The warmth bore down upon her, reaching into her lungs in an attempt to suffocate her. She stood on the wet beach with her head hung low, letting the waves lap against her hind legs. After several moments, she attempted to shake off the excess water, but it had already evaporated under the sun’s glare despite the imminent sunset.

Glancing around her, she noticed another mare. Inhaling deeply, she perceived a familiar scent just before a grain of sand forced her to snort in annoyance. So it starts. She stared for a while at the sorrel girl, wondering why they had never met, then realizing she didn’t care. The only use the other mare was to Laurel was so she could find the oasis again. She had no desire to nearly die again, no matter how appealing the feeling had been previously. For now Laurel knew. She had felt the stirrings within her, and they terrified her. Once more she would be a mother, and ever since she had been aware of her pregnancy she had been worried the same thing would happen again, that she would have another ghostly child to follow her around and instill fear within her.

Suddenly the forlorn chestnut left her perch overlooking the sea. Laurel set off to follow her at a trot. She struggled up the dune, still unused to the soft sand beneath her hooves. Upon reaching the crest, she noticed a skeletal creature interacting with the red at the oasis. Steeling herself for an unwanted interaction, she moved toward the promise of refreshment. As she neared the pool’s edge, she attempted to look as unwelcoming to conversation as possible, pinning her ears and focusing only on the cool liquid. She was not fond of any equines, but she especially had no desire to speak with these two. One had looked on the verge of offing herself in the ocean and the other seemed loopy. Again she questioned her decision to come back.

She dipped her muzzle to the water, gulping it in to relieve her thirst that had been brought on by the salty sea. As she drank, the small bay glared out of the corner of her eye at the two mares, almost daring one of them to try and speak to her.