Out of the side of his eye he caught the movement from another as they shed themselves from the shadows and moved towards them. He’d expected Iset, but it wasn’t… Where was Iset? It was almost too long since he’d set eyes on her, and that had him concerned. But it was a winged boy, younger than he, who made to join them. And it became clear soon enough he at least was no stranger. Castile.
Sakir sighed gently. Perhaps it was time to rise from the sulking and get to know those who lived here. He’d spent enough time skulking in his sorrows… but then he thought of Iset, and all that was done to her, and then some when Amet fled the sands like a scampering dune rat. And that heavy cloud grey with sadness could not evaporate.
He stifled the bitterness of those thoughts, throwing a sideways glance at his brother though his friendly features never once wavered from being amicable. Amet spoke well. And it was clear that the child who’d fled the dune, shaking free from the responsibility of his younger siblings when he ran was no more. Though Sakir did wonder, did Amet hope, that by founding this place, by giving those who’d come here the skills he and his siblings went without in the sands, that it would somehow rid himself of the guilt of what he had done? That it would lead to forgiveness? Well, that would remain to be seen.
“You are in good company then.” He said to Djinni, before turning away from the trio, his eyes scanning the darkening peaks of the eroded ridgetops for his twin. No sign of her. “My brother has done well here, though it’s only just begun.” And the gaze which fell on Amet could still be proud, devoid of disappointment and sadness though that wasn’t the truth at the core of him, deeper at his heart. “I’m sure we’ll meet again later,” to Djinni, “and you.” he nodded at Castile, moving purposefully past them, making for the higher ridges to search for his twin.