V e s t i

Vesti found that all the things that needed to be covered were covered. She seemed set to remain in the Desert. She was interested though, as El Aran’s words seemed to indicate that she was the one who ruled. That was different. Vesti was more than willing to stick about, after all she had spent too many years on the road and was ready to try again.

Hopefully Orhan would prove to be as stable as she was. Well, stable in location. Because Vesti herself is certainly only stable in her insanity. Though, it did not seem to be deteriorating any longer. So perhaps, she was a stable woman at last.

But, despite the Voice, Vesti was not the kind to beg. She had been stolen, she had fought back, and she had learned how to handle the Sands of Salem. Hell had not broken her. She looked back at Orhan. The buckskin did not seem too ill to her, though his coat needed to complete it’s shed.

How long have you been on Salem? The mare’s questions struck her. Years? Ah yes, well, since the season only came around once a year, it might be easier to count. Though the days and nights were endless in their repetitiveness. Five sounded about right… four perhaps? It did not matter.

“Four or five years,” Vesti stated. “The seasons tend to run together out in the sands. I had two colts before I decided that if herds were going to abandon me to the heat, then I would not stand to be shuffled about from stallion to stallion like a piece of driftwood on the beach.” Vesti knew driftwood. She knew what it was like to be at the mercy of the tides. The same piece of driftwood could follow her from Salem to Atlantis and back to the Crossing or wherever the waves would take it.

She sighed.

“I was brought to the Dunes first and lived there longest. Since it was abandoned by the stallion who stole me, I have been crisscrossing this island.” Why not share that? It was the truth. And Vesti genuinely had little concept of untruth. Truth was all you had in this sun-beaten land. No amount of lying or cushion would change the fact that you had to find water - you had to find food. Neither was provided and the Sand was deadly to those who refused to accept its truth. She looked to the black mare. “What about yourself?” She knew the mare had to have been there at least as long as herself. Probably longer. El Aran owned this oasis, and there was no question that she was the power in the desert.

|| mare || seven springs || 15.0hh || morgan x quarter horse || sorrel || belongs to salem || grai and kel ||
|| unknown x unknown || blushie ||

but I wasn't going to let fear _{s t o p} me