The longer he spoke to her, the more similarities he found between this mare and his absent Queen. The same slight facial dish, the same flaxen hair. Her tongue was sharp, her mind even sharper, and he wondered how long it would be before the islands knew Skogsra's name the same way they knew Nyimara's.

"The Desert has any number of secrets," he said cryptically, in response to her sarcastic comment about family. It seemed that Nyimara - much like his own sire - had family everywhere. He smiled blandly despite the way his eyes darkened. "You just need to know where to look."

She assured him then that no one was coming to look for her, and he couldn't help the mote of satisfaction that rose in his chest. Not only because he was rather coming to enjoy the temporary anonymity the Desert was enjoying, but also because that meant that she was unlikely to be attached to the child's father. He wasn't sure why the latter pleased him so, but he left that thought to be mulled over later when he wasn't trying to navigate speaking with her.

"A shame. The Desert could use more bodies." Dead or alive, he didn't elaborate. He had already gone to where the bones of Rougaru - now sunbleached and bare, identifiable only by the rock someone had put there - lay. Another skeleton, thinner and more delicate looking, had been nearby but no one had known who that set belonged to and so it had been pushed away and buried beneath the sands, leaving only the skull of a very dished face above the surface.

As she snarked about him taking so long, the smile melted from his eyes, landed on his lips and then thinned further. He gestured toward the oasis with his head, the path still clear from earlier. "Just waiting on the two of you, darling." He tipped his head, responding to the subtle challenges she kept tossing his way. "Or can you not see the palms from here?"