The pale light of predawn finds the exotic queen standing still above the desert horizon. Whisps of cool breath expel from her nostrils like smoke from a sleeping dragon. Dark eyes, near invisible behind the veil of her forelock scan the serene landscape before her. Ever watchful, she waits in silence as the land begins to awaken to yet another day.

A single fluted lobe twitches as a nearby sparrow takes flight but Nyimara doesn't bother to turn and watch it. Not today. The islands have been quiet these past few months. Too quiet. Not a word has been whispered of Asmodeus or Marceline on Atlantis. Even Lucifer seems to have reclused himself behind his seas of sand. All remain dormant, as if waiting for something to stir to life.

Waiting is not a trait she is known for.

Somewhere deep down, the chocolate colored woman feels the smallest grain of gratitude for the reprieve. The birth of her twin daughters last year was much harder on her mind and body than she had ever expected.

A soft voice hissed of her age and yet Nyimara finds herself snorting aloud even now in response. If the spotted red woman could handle multiple sets of twins, than so could her body. Whether that was true or not.

Either way, the year's peace has allowed her to return to a semi-normal state of being. No longer do early mornings make her bones crack and a moan slip past her lips in protest. No more does she appear skeletal with a dull coat and bones protruding from lack of sufficient nutrients. The elder mare who struggled to bring her daughters into the world has been replaced by the proud and fierce desert queen once more. And the day is just beginning.