In the days and weeks since Rhaynira’s birth, the silver witch queen has found what little time she has had divided between caring for her young daughter and patrolling her borders. If Fell’s sudden appearance on her shore had not been warning enough, both Rafe and his ambitious young son Evrain had made sudden appearances after months on end of steadfast silence. Even Marceline had taken the time to wander into the Dunes unchecked and without caution. Grant it, Marceline was now dead if her lack of appearance and the self proclaimed Hills king were to be believed. To make matters even worse, Isik seems to have disappeared completely following the red queen’s death with had honestly hit her ego harder than she imagined. She had hoped that the dark stallion might come to her for aide, that together with Isik and Quinn at her side, Nyimara might finally be able to make a play towards ultimate queenship with the cards in her hand. However he had not and once more, the island of Salem seemed to be hanging by the dwindling threads of peace.

That in and of itself was no issue for her. Nyimara was a mare who thrived on chaos and a thirst for discord. She loved the looks of apprehension and fear that settled over the horses and herds she encountered. The old wolf might be falling into myth but she was still very much alive and very much a threat.

Today, like many before, she leaves her small family nestled in the shadow of the large oasis. She had been awake for hours in deep contemplation but it wasn't until Rhaynira stirred that she bothered to rise herself. Though spring was quickly giving way to the heat of summer here in the desert, still the nights had a way of becoming bitterly cold and Rhaynira was still too young to be without both her mother and father to nestle against. After nursing her filly, Nyimara manages to coax the silver haired girl to stay here in the deep throng of grass while she herself took up patrol. Kàra had proven time and time again to be a loyal follower, silent and watchful but choosing to distance herself from the relationship that Nyimara had built with Quinn. It stung if she were to be honest, but she does not put too much thought into the matter, Kàra would do as she wished and as long as that brought no harm to her children then Nyimara saw no reason to condemn her for it.

While the pretty dappled gray mare and her handsome king had taken to watching the borders for her, Nyimara still felt it necessary to be seen by not just their neighbors, but the nomad brothers that had taken up residence in the western Dunes with their large herd. The Arabian stallions and their followers had been silent as of late and while the silver witch liked to think they were merely enjoying their conclave together, she was not foolish enough to believe in that alone. She had not become the Dunes queen by merely brushing off silence for weakness.

So, at a much more languid pace than usual, the silver witch wanders across the Dunes, using the high rises of sand to scan the sweeping valleys beyond for signs of turmoil or suspicion. As usual, the only ones to greet her sharp eyes are the wandering throng of antelope that seem to have taken up near a small oasis. A single buck blows hard towards her, its large ears flicking back and forth nervously as it stomps its tiny hooves in the sand in warning. In another time and place, Nyimara might have met its cautious warning with threats of violence. She might have lunged at it for the insolence and even chased it and its small herd far beyond her borders for the new Hills king to deal with. Today however, she merely flicks her unusually long tail in its direction and issues an audible snort of her own, as if to warn the creature not to test her patience. It would solve her nothing to challenge the beast. Instead, she turns away, wandering across the peaks of sand until the glistening ocean is just barely visible over the rise of sand. Sunlight glitters across the waters, causing her dark eyes to squint and blink rapidly to keep from hindering her searching gaze. The invisible zephyr’s twist and twine their fingers around her, lifting the ends of her silver white mane and causing them to dance to a silent melody. Everything in the Dunes was peaceful, both a blessing, and a curse for the witch and her demon king. If they were to thrive, things could not continue as such for long.