| Ahadi, Azizi & Tendaji blood is heavier than water |
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The three of them made landfall before midday, having set off early from the shore of the Crossing, so that they would have the majority of daylight by which to navigate the wastes of Salem. It was the youngest of the trio that ranged ahead, a shadow creeping over the sunburnt sands. The white-patched stallion trailed behind, hesitant to venture into the desertlands. In the middle, an almost-clone of his mother, if one looked past the white streak on his face and the height and leaner build, stood the eldest, a ragged ear turned to keep track of the brother ahead, while he looked behind to gauge the demeanour of his troubled brother. “Tendaji,” was all he said, and it was enough. Enough to ground the one of them who still felt lost, sometimes, and remind him that he wasn’t alone. Together the pair picked up their pace to catch up to the smallest and darkest of the three, and then Azizi took the lead, guiding his brothers towards safer paths, so that they could cross Salem without risking the ire of those who called these territories home. He was slow, deliberate in the pace he set, and in sticking to the invisible line he walked. All three had their eyes to the horizon, on the lookout for predators, or residents coming to investigate their presence. But the heat even of the autumn sun was enough to keep most from crossing the sands that offered no shelter from the heat, and so by the time they caught sight of the glittering oasis, they had glimpsed only one or two distant figures, and had not been approached. The three took turns drinking from the water, Tendaji only fleetingly before he resumed his watch. Naturally, he was the most on edge, something that did not go unnoticed by the other two. “Tulia ndugu,” Ahadi murmured, eliciting a curl of Tendaji’s lip. But before the pair could fall to squabbling, Azizi stepped between them, coming to the aid of the dun stallion. “Kutosha, Ahadi!” - quiet, enough. “You have no memory of this place, but what happened here…” The brown stallion trailed off, shaking his head, his gold-brown eyes flashing a silent warning to the youngest. Both he and Tendaji had suffered here, apart from their mother. “We should be safe here. This oasis, though mostly falling under ownership of the Dunes, does touch upon the boundary of the Desert,” Azizi murmured, settling himself into a thin patch of shade. What went unspoken, but deeply understood between them, was that they would keep each other safe, while they waited, and kept on their eyes on the dust-blurred horizon. As it was, with little sign of occupation in the Desert to the north, and the notes of many different scents carried in traces on the hot wind coming from the heart of the Dunes to the south, it was in this direction they kept watch of most intently - and because it was from here they’d faced threats before. |