The rising sun streaks the sky with vibrant blue and purple highlights on the undersides of clumps of clouds hovering over the distant edge of the Dunes. Gabbar lies under the generous canopy of his favorite palm tree and drowsily watches the night give way. Much has happened over the last season. He lost the first member of his herd and gained Evaline, the strong-willed mother of a stallion Gabbar considers his ally. Avangeline surprised him at his oasis and became not only a willing member of the Dunes, but his friend. And Valve has returned, though for what purpose the Arabian cannot fathom. Her presence fills him with a shallow sense of dread of which he has been unable to pinpoint the source. Despite it all, he has slept well and woke feeling well rested for a number of days.

This morning, too, he rises slowly from sleep and feels relaxed. The bay stallion turns his dished head to regard the shrubbery-lined pool in the soft light of dawn. He loves his home. The lush smell of the grass and tenacious plant-life offsets the hot dusty aroma of the Dunes, and the cool air rising off the water fills him with contentment. The oncoming day is full of promise. Gabbar climbs to his feet and shakes out his dusty coat. In a few days, perhaps, he will venture off Salem and revisit the Crossing to double-check for signs of the Arabian mares from his home, but today he feels drawn to the company of his small band,

Gabbar exhales a deeply contented sigh and treads slowly to the pool at the center of his home. He glances about to see if he can pick out the shapes of the mares either resting on their bellies as he was or standing with knees locked to sleep. His eyes still feel heavy from sleep and he sighs again as he reaches the bank of the still water and lowers his head to drink. Gabbar’s ears twist as he slakes his morning thirst, listening for the sounds of the mares breathing, and when he lifts his dripping muzzle to survey the area again he utters a soft whicker to draw them out where he can see them.