Sekhmet smiled, the corners of her black lips wrinkling as she dipped her gaze from Gabbar briefly when she heard his comment. Was it so obvious that the sands were where she felt the most at home? It was difficult to decide whether she was pleased about that fact or not. It was certainly true – that much was undeniable – but at the same time she had come here to distance herself from everything that resembled home.

But perhaps, while a place such as Salem existed, she did not have to. Maybe she could have all of the best parts of the things she missed without all of the things that had driven her to leave.

Just maybe.

“Indeed we are,” she agreed with a tilt of her head, glancing back towards her companion as they wandered. His choice of words held little significance for her, save for recognising it admirably as a poetic turn of phrase.

As Gabbar paused in his step, Sekhmet mirrored him. Though she was eager to see more of what lay further within these dunes, she was not impolite enough to march ahead of the man in his own home. Particularly not when the intriguing stallion had questions to ask her.

“They are proud,” she replied quiet easily, unsurprised that it was the first word that came into her head at the thought of her family. “Very proud. And strong – so long as you do them no wrong they would fight the gods themselves to defend one of their own.”

Sekhmet paused, trying to draw her attention back from the past and to the future once more.

“What about your people, Gabbar?” she asked, interested to hear how his family compared. Though she knew the herds from different lands could have wildly different cultures, the instinctive spark of recognition and familiarity she always felt when she saw another Arabian had always intrigued her.

sekhmet
fly without wings and conquer without sword