It was just another day of absolutely nothing going on. Everyone seems quiet after that sudden attack on the odd group of horses Nyimara lets stay here. She keeps herself deep in the background if all the different groups gathering in the Dunes. She learns their names through conversations being had and collects details about every one of them. But she never talks to them in person. Only Nyimara can hold that privilege.

Grey legs take her to one of the highest Dunes in Nyimara's territory. The mare climbs the sandy hill carefully until she is at the top. Her blue eyes scan the area for intruders, or anything interesting really. All she saw was some horses gathered peacefully in the distance. The thought dawned that she hasn't see that stallion in awhile. The one that her mistress picked to stand at her side. Kára's eyes narrow at the image in her head.

She trusts none of them to treat Nyimara how she should be treated. But the Queen sees something in them that she does not. If Kára could have her way Nyimara would be hers and hers alone. They wouldn't be here in the Dunes, but traveling together to find solitude. It was called a fantasy for a reason. It would never be so the thought will only live in her imagination.