The Dunes were not as hot as she remembered, though as she emerged from the choppy sea she realized that her poor memory was likely due to the fact that she had spent much of her time away since Badr had disappeared. After shaking the excess from her shedding coat, she remained for a few minutes on the shore, letting the sun and wind dry her more thoroughly. The pain she had begun to feel on the crossing island had intensified, and she swing her head to her sides several times in irritation.

Underneath her disgruntled façade, she was deeply anxious for what was to come. What if this child were like the last? Would she then be forced to live with two apparitions following her? As if on cue, she saw the pale form of her first child out of the corner of her eye. Watching it warily, she began to move further into the territory, seeking an adequately private location. At the nearest oasis she saw the small collection of mares, and passed them without uttering a word. Even without the business she had to do today, she would have been silent. None of them were like her, in her opinion. Then again, she had never really tried to see if it were otherwise.

By the time she reached the oasis furthest from the shore, Laurel was in full labor and she was forced to lie down. She rolled a few times before beginning to push, and all the while her ghostly shadow kept watch. Finally, she felt her second child fully leave the safety of her body. For several moments she refused to look at it, afraid of what she would see. When she turned her head and saw the dark mass at her feet, her ears pricked. As far as she could tell, it was completely normal. Looking past it, she met the face of her spectral firstborn. Murmuring softly, she spoke to it without a harsh tone for the first time. ”I’m sorry.” Then, she lifted herself to her feet and set to nosing about the slippery form of her newborn. Seeing nothing structurally wrong with the child, she began to lick it clean as the pale one dissipated into the horizon.