Tonight was oddly quiet for the Dunes; the wind kept her playful fingers to herself and did not ply them through my mane, nor did the small beasties that called the desert home skitter through the valleys in search of food. Were it not for the fact that I had just left my Beloved's side, I might have believed myself alone on this side of the territory.

Or I would have, until the rhythmic sound of hooves broke the quiet hush of the land. I turned at the sound, surprised to find another awake so late at night, and found a stallion I did not recognize. He was painted with monochrome swathes of black and gray and white, a patchwork I had never seen anything quite like. He was unknown to me, as most creatures on the islands were these days, but his expression seemed kind enough that I felt no need to call for help. Despite how close he comes - so close his breath wafts warm and wet against my coat in the still air - I do not move away.

What ails you, he asks, as though my troubles might so easily be distilled and poured out to a stranger. My lips lift into a smile at his compliment, but the gesture does not quite reach my eyes; few smiles had in the past weeks, despite my best attempts to lift them there through sheer will alone. I did not know if he spoke true: my faded coloration in comparison to the bright gems that were gathering here daily (or even against the elegant mahogany of our Queen) hardly seemed worthy of compliments, and even less so when held up to his unique beauty.

"I only wish absolving myself were so easy," I murmured back softly, without accusation. It was a beautiful thought: that I might confess my shortcomings and lay them across his shoulders like vestments so that he might carry them into the dawn to be absolved by the morning, but it was only that. A dream, and one that I had no business dwelling in. "You do not seem the sort to be bothered by the trivialities of wedded bliss." I was not trying to be sarcastic, but the last two words fell wooden from my tongue. Soon, Antares would see how grossly overconfident my heart had become of its own capabilities, and would grow tired of the stubborn wish for independence that I could not rinse from my mind.

"Have you come to live among the Dunes as well?" I ask, eager to change the subject. This stallion of snow and coal bears little resemblance to the lithe desert horses that have come flocking home to my Husband's eager call, but I know that Queen Nyimara has welcomed all types. I knew little of her, but what little I had seen implied that she was not opposed to having a herd of mixed heritage around her.