He flatters me with his interest in our ways, but I know I should not be surprised. After all, I had given him the lightest and best view of our customs, the sort of view that I imagined would appeal to most stallions on the isles. I doubted that many of them would shy away from the thought of having mares that were betrothed to them and them alone. Such ties were not to be taken lightly. For all the power it granted to the heads of our houses, it also yoked them with a responsibility to care for the Wives, their children, and the various parts of the household that were necessary to maintain the Wives' happiness. I had never before even considered the possibility that a horse made of something other than desert sand and cactus spines would be interested in our ways, nor could I even begin to picture hearing a creature such as he wax on poetic about the teachings of the Sadim.

Thankfully, the monochrome stallion is eager to share details of his home, and despite the fact that I keep my gaze demurely away to avoid giving him the wrong idea of my status and place among my people, he holds all of my attention. "The Nordurland?" I echo in confusion, sparing him a curious glance. I had never heard such a word in my life, but there was a familiarity to the way that he uttered it that implied it was a place familiar to him.

As he went on to describe Atlantis, I cast my gaze back out to the rolling Dunes upon which we stood thoughtfully. Salem, like most deserts, had a beauty that was harder to describe. One that was fiercer and more refined. The desert felt no need to dress herself with flowers or flocks of birds, she offered you the endless sky and delicate patterns of rippling sand. Oases to rest and relax in, and enough wind that somedays it felt as though you might be able to fly if you only ran fast enough.

"It sounds beautiful... but entirely unreal," I say, not unkindly, my lips curved into a small, somber smile. "Like the sort of place my Brother might have described to my daughter in a story when she was small." Mentioning Rigel and Aminah, even in passing, helped to ground me to the Dunes again, and I breathed a little deeper with the reminder of who and where I was. What could have been did not matter. What mattered was what was, and what was, was that I was home, with my family.

He speaks again, his voice indicating a familiarity with this place and it's Queen beyond that of a random stranger. And while this should not have surprised me (given we were in the Dunes and the odds of meeting a total stranger here were slim), I found myself shocked by it all the same. I did not sense much of the sharp-eyed desertbred mare in this monochrome stallion, although the longer I looked at him now, the more I could sense it under the surface.

I felt suddenly very small again, as I had the day that my Husband had made his bargain with Nyimara. This time, however, I had no one else to hide behind. I watched the pale stallion in silence for a long moment, carefully choosing my words. Queen Nyimara had not explicitly spoken of what threat faced her herd, but there had been enough emphasis on protection, especially that of children, that made me hesitant to divulge too much to this unknown man.

"Yes," I say evenly, controlling the pace of my breath so that it did not betray my unease. I knew this stallion far less than I knew the silver-maned mare, and I could barely claim any familiarity with her. I'd already exchanged more words with this nameless stranger than I had with his mother, but that did not provide me with comfort either. "In as much as mutual protection could be considered free, son of Nyimara."

I would not lie though... his assertion that the Dunes Queen did nothing without benefitting herself only helped to solidify my feelings toward her and I knew that I should take advantage of this unusual opportunity. I thought of Aminah, of the betrayal she must feel, and found myself wondering if she thought so poorly of me as this stallion did of Nyimara. "Do you truly believe your mother so irredeemable?"