When in doubt, use nettles.

It was pleasant to simply share space with someone who did not have any pressing need of her. Sidika did not often seek out the others that she lived with, finding herself far too short of the patience required to deal with the scheming and subplots of a herd of mares. Far too often, in her limited experience, mares who became herd bound found themselves short of adventure and went looking for something exciting in all the wrong places.

Sidika had found herself on the wrong end of their search more often than she would like to admit.

It had taken years for her hide to toughen up to the point where she could remain unruffled by their commentary and scheming, but it had not been an easy path to take. She'd found that remaining aloof, and alone were often the best ways to safeguard her own peace of mind in the long run, and had every intention of employing just that tact here.

She does not hide the soft frown that ghosts across her lips as Maslakhat mentions that she will soon meet the others of the herd. In truth, she'd just as soon avoid the whole thing, except that she knew they needed to know of her in order to seek her out for treatment. Her ears splay as she considers this, giving the stallion enough time to voice his pleasure at her occupation.

"Is not pride." She says gruffly, not used to the strange feeling of appreciation that had welled in her at the thought of him finding it a generous gesture, or that others may take pride in her acquaintance. Absently, she flicked the pale strands of her tail, trying to sort out the emotion he had engendered.

Realizing she had been a bit short with him she shook her head in an attempt to explain. "Healing is a job, yes? You guard and protect. Other mares make babies. Guards keep watch. I heal."

Offering the equine equivalent of a shrug, Sidika flicks her attention to the oasis, uncomfortable with the thought of his gaze so securely on her. Gesturing with her muzzle, she questions gently, "is this only oasis?"

It would not be the end of the world if she had to share the space with the rest of the herd, although she was certain it would make for some awkward conversations. How would the rest of his herd react to her? Some were often horrified, shielding their children from the mess that had been made of her body. Other's gawked. Some even whispered to their children of the dangers of the desert, using her as a blatant example.

The worst were those that offered false pity, as though their well-wishes would do anything to hide the scars. Still, she could not hide forever. And she could make do with this oasis even if there did not exist one that was more out of the way.