More than just the seasons were changing on Salem. Since Asmodeus’ abandonment of his post, Nyimara has been vigilant in her patrols of each of the kingdoms that border her own. Aside from Sigurdr still playing the ghost and Bjorn’s ever-present tug on her heart, the only real concern comes with the unknown changes in the Dunes.

The silver-haired witch is no fool. Nor is she some inexperienced leader testing the waters of diplomacy for the first time. Battles have hardened her mind and experience quickened her wit. The unfamiliar scent of the strange stallion spreading his mark on the Dunes can mean but one thing… Helios has lost his throne. A setback she was not expecting.

The moment the russet stallion’s voice echoes across the Desert, Nyimara is waiting. Her lithe limbs are immediately put into motion, navigating the familiar terrain with a skilled prowess that has become second nature. No doubt Helios was here seeking refuge, it was the only logical explanation her mind could come to. He would expect her to honor the alliance she had asked of him now that the tables were turned and he was in need. The question was… should she?

It was an option, to demand he bend the knee and submit to her reign and fight for her cause. An option she does not doubt will take little to no effort on her part to make him see the wisdom her experience could provide him. She could also refuse to offer him the refuge he seeks and instead take what remained of his following for herself. It would also be well within her right to do so.

And yet the golden-haired stallion has been a faithful ally. Not an ally to Asmodeus, something he made vividly clear on her last visit to the Dunes…. He was an ally to her. That had to count for something right?

The sight of the wounded stallion that comes into her view now draws on emotions that don’t quite feel right. Anger flashes behind her near-black eyes as the silver-haired queen quickens her pace, brows knitting together in concern. The metallic tang of blood is still fresh on his wounds and it would not take long for the coyotes and vultures to come to investigate for a possible meal. ”Helios… come.” she murmurs, circling behind the copper-stained beast to bring herself even with him, offering a shoulder to help bear the weight off his wounded leg should he have need. Fluted lobes pitch forward amid the wind-tangled tendrils of her mane as Nyimara jerks her head to the right. ”There is a small oasis nearby with fresh water and shade to rest your herd. You can tell me what has happened along the way if you have the strength left.”