Bahadır stands idly beneath the shade of a scraggly desert willow, his tail slaps his speckled hide with a resounding slap. His thoughts flicker from Naz to Amunet, both mysterious women with curiously curving ears. A movement disturbs his thoughts, and his dark eyes slide to the Queen. They had barely spoke since the battles, the tension between them can be felt within the herd. With a grunt he pushes himself from with the shadow of the willow tree and strides across the desert sands.

As he nears the Queen, he slows and watches her warily, untrusting. He does not dip his head, he just lets its sit proudly on his mahogany shoulders. He looks down his nose at her as she tries to forage on the feeble grasses that the desert provides to them. He notices her swelling belly and that soon the sands would bring forth new life. "There is better grass closer to the water's edge," he says simply as he eyes the mare. With a roll of his dark eyes, he steps past her with a swish of his dark tail. He steps into the water and wades until the water is at his fetlocks. With a snort he drops his muzzle toward the banks where blades of succulent grasses grow.

He eyes her as he chews the grasses and then swallows. "The further you get from the water's edge, the dryer the grasses are," he says with a bob of his delicately chiseled head. "What is it that keeps you here?" he says with a raise of his brow. She could leave the sands behind and perhaps pursue who ever had planted that foal in her belly.