It's not that she believed Kohelet incapable of taking care of herself, or that she thought Mazikeen was lying; it was just that the spotted mare had brought their mother up too many times in the conversation, and had specified that she was doing well, which made Solzeren worry that something may have happened while she was gone.

I should never have been gone so long, she chastised herself as she made the journey from the Crossing to Salem, and not a moment too soon, as the season was officially turning and the stallions were getting rowdy and competitive in social areas like the Meadow and especially the Common. Maybe I should never have left at all. Father would have found his way back without me… I think.

The black mare waded out from the shallows, her breath heavy from the exertion and her coat gleaming wet under the midday Salem sun. She hadn't grown up in heat like this, but at least it wasn't humid; maybe she could bare it, if she could find some shade to escape into every once in a while. The sand was warm beneath her hooves as she made her way from the soft beach and onto the harder, sun-baked desert earth. Tough grasses and fat succulent leaves brushed her lightly-feathered legs, which were rapidly drying and becoming dull and dusty, as she strode inland.

Solzeren’s eyes scoured the earth until she spotted a painted black-and-white figure some distance away, a scattering of tough desert trees and a stony ridge between them. Sol watched as her mother came to a sudden, startled halt, and her head shot up, and the solid black mare knew it was her.

“Mom!” she cried out, her voice breaking at the peak of her shout, not out of tears but because of the childish way she had called – Solzeren hadn't really called for her mother as an adult. She had been so young when she left home.

Sol stumbled forward, as though she had forgotten all of the progress she'd made growing into her long legs. She rapidly got hold of herself, picking up a much smoother lope than her first clumsy steps had suggested, and rushed toward Kohelet, her head and tail held straight up like a filly figuring out all the fuss about a good run for the first time.