Indira's face betrays her surprise as the mare now known as Sayyida makes her purpose known. Raising her newest child in the presence of their father, in a home with some sort of roots, never even occurred to Indira. She raised Tarek on the road and they faired just as well.

But Indira grows tired of running.

This seems a welcome compromise between leaving the islands and returning to the disappointed faces that await her in the forest. Maybe sheltering on Salem for a season or two could be just what she needs to let bitter feelings blow over before returning to the forest.

"I'm sorry," she begins. "Should I call you Sayyida?" Indira asks. "I wasn't straight with you. I hope you'll understand. I've been through a lot lately and my suspicions get the best of me." Indira respectfully lowers her head. A chill winter's breeze combs through silken tendrils of her mane, emphasizing the softness of her pose. "I am Indira." Dark eyes lift to meet the other mare's diplomatic stare. "I would be honored to accompany you back to the Dunes."

It's been so long since Indira has called the island of Salem home, but through all these years, it always has been. Her wandering feet knew they would somehow find their way back.

----------------------

And this is how it began, Indira's journey back home.

The mare is of mixed breeding, but mixed desert breeding. She sports the gently-arched neck of an akhal teke, the fine bones of an Arabian, and the sharp eye of the Marwari. Where her blood is not specifically desert-bred, the traits lend well to desert living. Her hooves whether strong like the mustang and her muscles ripple, both lean and athletic, beneath thin skin, like the thoroughbred.

Indira has appreciated the warm climate and the trip down memory lane. She has relished the opportunity to provide her daughter with the safety and support of family beyond just herself. Sayyida is has become a friend, and her heart fills with a fondness for the brothers. Of all the young stallions Indira could have coupled with, Antares was a good choice. He so delicately balances honor with the sweetness of his heart. The eldest of the brothers carries much weight upon his shoulders, but he is a character to be admired. Indira can't say she is in love with him. Such romance has never been a part of her makeup, but she has learned to love him in her own way.

This culture is yet a strange and poorly-understood puzzle to Indira. As her daughter grows and wanders farther from her side, the time draws nearer for Indira to make a choice. She must find her place among these horses, or return to the forest. Perhaps a conversation with Sayyida or Antares can shed some light on the situation, and help her make an appropriate decision.

Sure steps carry the painted mare to the heart of the Dunes territory. Her searching eyes look for those most familiar among the crowd.