Maslakhat did not expect that the Dunes would be so ripe for the claiming at the precise moment of his return, but he would be a fool not to take advantage of such good fortune. After all, this was his home for many years. He and Valve had successfully cultivated a collective of superior cohorts that lingered among these sands along with them, and he intended to carry on that legacy. No, he would not squander this gift that the gods granted him today.

The sands of Salem were meant for those like him and his children—hot blooded creatures with impeccable endurance, thin-skinned and light-boned. His kind were well-equipped for success here, and he could think of no task more honorable than presiding over the sanctity of these lands.

The golden bay Akhal-Teke tossed his head with vigor as he galloped up the side of a nearby tall dune, sand kissing his fetlocks with every stride. Invigorated by this new beginning, he whinnied loudly into the air. His dappled coat shone like flames in the wind as he ran, his sparse mane and tail a black banner waving behind him, a signal to those nearby that he had arrived—and it was here he would stay.


MASLAKHAT

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