There is no ill will against the other woman, as she was only defending her home against supposed interlopers; one of which having been hidden among the dunes until now, and surely the mare had picked up on such a fact. Hiding right under her nose and she never knew it. Eness knew these lands more so now than she did before, so much like her birth home it had been easy to become ‘lost’ with the boy’s at her side, but it had hardened them when they had no one but their mother at their side’s.

Her beloved’s voice for her ears alone has a soft chuckle escaping her, breaking her from the thoughts that plague her. Yes, he did indeed have his own form of punishment lined up as soon as they were alone. Perhaps not as bad as he might be thinking for his overly long absence but she’d let him stew upon that until later, ears tilting at him before they swivel back to the mare who’d begun speaking. She spoke with careful words and a body that moved and coiled like a snake in the grass while regarding the pair of arabians before her.

Eness notes that the stranger in front of them carried herself well; as though she is a - ‘queen of the dunes’. Nyimara spoke the words before she’d been able to think it but her attitude towards them so far added up. Still Eness did not relax her body that tenses more with Atair stepping forward, his body battered and yet willing to take whatever the strange woman would throw at them, as he explains their situation to who they are.

At the apology leaving her stallion’s lips she steps to the side to once more put herself at his shoulder, telling him in her own way that she’d shoulder whatever came next with him together; as it was right as his wife and soul sewn.

“Apologies to you,” Eness echoes with a slight dip of her dished head to her chest, honesty in the tones of her smooth and calculated voice. Before something can be said though she speaks again, “there is also our two sons running wild somewhere, on salem i know at least in the case you come upon them. Al Hilal and Al Murzim, twins, both grown but usually are not far from me. Hilal is a black stallion with some speech issues, and his brother Murzim is of chestnut coloring and talks enough for them both. Young and wild, so I apologize ahead of time if you have come across either.” and with that she falls silent. She doesn't look to Atair to take note of this sudden knowledge of their children, they’d discuss what they’d been up to later.