The Best is Yet to Come [Yael + Any]

[Yael]

Sunrises and sunsets were quite the illustrious bookends to scorching hot days and cool - then cold - nights. They were almost always treated to a show, and today is no exception. Yael breathes deeply, inhaling the peculiar smells of home, and keeping it as a part of herself. Some said she smelled of spices: of saffron and cinnamon and even a little musky sweat. She glances over at Neso, happy to see such innocent joy in her face. “Yes, t’at ees eet.” Neso reminds her of Zilpah, a little bit, and her thoughts fly to her second-born, wherever she is out beyond Beqanna. She is safe, of course, with Zale and Rosalinde and Sawflesh. Everyone must have their own Great Adventure, and that was theirs.

She misses her children, of course. But she is also lucky, because she can be with them whenever she wants to be. Whenever they want her to be.

“Velcome xome, Neeso. Safest place in B’kanna.” Yael nods towards the interior of the Desert. There is something that the gray mare isn’t saying, but Yael doesn’t want to pry. Much. They break into a trot, throwing up sand in their wake, and because it isn’t quite so hot out (yet), Yael keeps talking. “So, xow deed you come to be xere, dear?”

The golden mare quickly wonders if anyone will meet them - the sands have been awfully quiet lately. She doesn’t want Neso to get a bad impression of the place.

Yael, guardian of the desert