At the word “abandoned”, Carys could have simply turned tail and run. She could have swam the salty sea again until she came across the island she hadn’t been able to explore in depth and spent however long she wanted poking her little nose about until she was satisfied with finding a herd again. She could have went to one of the other hazy shapes of islands she could see lurking off on the far distant horizon far, far away. Carys’s mind was still filled with unanswered questions when it came to this place she was at, after all! But the words given by Orhan of the Desert were very intriguing and Carys could not help but find herself following the faint trail of his masculine scent through the territory she’d come to know.

Eventually the hard ground gave way to shifting dunes, grainy sand swallowed her hooves whole and made her pick up her feet, quickening her pace to keep from sinking. Her pale tail fanned out beside her, tail head lifted to keep it off her rump. Carys threw all caution to the wind and lifted her head; ears turned back (but not pinned) and blue eyes wide as she soaked in the abundant change in the land around her. Everything about it was different from the badlands (except maybe the heat) and she learned her traveling had to be careful; at some places the top of a dune dropped away into a steep slope down (she’d already skidded down one).

After a good deal of time traveling into the Desert, Carys was rather tired, her skin felt somewhat sweaty and her throat was dry. She pulled up her quick pace and resigned herself to a walk, ears pointed forward and eyes searching for either a horse that might point her to water or a source of water itself. A good bath and a roll would be akin to heaven about now!