The howl of the wind is deafening, even with her ears pressed firmly against her crest. Sand bites into her flesh as the storm buffets against her, whipping her silver mane and tail away from her body. It was easy to get disoriented in a storm like this, easy to lose one’s way and become overwhelmed by the suffocating thickness of sand in the air. Even those who had grown up in the desert did all that they could to avoid the storms if at all possible. Not Nyimara.

Again and again she has been driven from her home for one reason or another. Again and again she had been forced to fight tooth and nail to rebuild herself and her purpose and this time, this time, not even a sandstorm would drive her from her Salem kingdom. Like the bent date palm and soaring acacia tree that she stood beneath, she stood rooted in place. Although the narrow tree trunk did not offer much protection against the onslaught of wind and sand, it did offer some. She would take what she could.

Lost in her thoughts, her senses numbed by the buffeting storm, Nyimara is not aware of his presence until the moment that his body slams against her hips. Shock, surprise and outrage run its course across her features and she whips her head around to face him. Sand stings her eyes as she takes in his form amid the dark haze. She opens her mouth to scream her warning but almost immediately it is closed to keep what sand off her tongue she could. It would have to wait. Pressing her hip back against the weight of his frame she drops her head low to the ground, inhaling a deep breath and closing her eyes to wait for the worst of the storm to pass. They never lasted very long anyway..