There was something about the endless expanse of ocean that reminded her of home, the one she’d left behind years ago. The shimmering seas seemed to mirror the way that the heat waves used to dance across the very tops of the dunes, tricking those unfamiliar with the sands into the illusion that water was near.  Anyone who had been raised near the desert had been taught at an early age of the sands deadly tricks.  But here the illusion was ruined by the salt air that filled her nostrils.

The larger of the waves looked like the tops of the snow-capped mountains visible from the very heart of her homeland.  The same mountains that had held the ruin of her people.  But the waves?  They seemed less daunting than the mountains. For as quickly as they formed they were gone again, bursting against the stones and the shoreline in an explosion of seafoam. 

The little mare stood ankle deep in the warm water.  It seemed even the water lacked its refreshing quality as the sun continued to bake the earth below.  But Najya had been born amongst the sands with the sun beating on her back, she was used to the extremes.  Still, seeing the waves explode around her fetlocks at regular intervals was more soothing than the temperature of the water. 

She looked up and watched as A’mal busied herself with fishing just beyond the curl of the waves.  It was amazing to think this had been the once graceless dragon that had been so reluctant to test her wings over any great distance. The little dragon’s confidence had grown as she had grown physically and now she appeared fearless as the mare watched her swoop and dive on well practiced wings.  The mare couldn’t help but smile as she stood on the shoreline, for the little dragon she’d named hope had returned that to her.  Even with the constant change and the tumultuous life that Helovia had to offer, Najya felt as if she were prepared to weather the storm. 

It was this line of thought that led her into thinking of the future.  With Gaucho’s demise and the Sunspear gone, the Throat had a new leader. A healer. It brought back all the memories of her mother’s prowess in the healing arts.  She remembered watching her mother burn herbs and using the colored smoke in rituals that cleansed those who were ill.  Now she wrote off her mother’s abilities to equal parts magic and nature, but she was skilled nonetheless.  She’d just been too intrigued with the stories of the world and the legends of the elders to appreciate her mother’s skills. But not now.  Not after seeing what she’d seen.  While it was always good to have a healthy appreciation for history, the stories could not save the wounded and heal the sick.  There was a value in both, and Najya felt the need to find the balance between a childish fancy and a need to have a purpose in a new world. 

Perhaps she’d finally find a place here.  She’d promised, after all. She let out a soft sigh as A’mal let out a contented squawk from somewhere over the waves.  Feeling her bonded’s contentment, the little dragon swooped low over the mare and deposited three silver fish at the mare’s feet before eliciting a string of happy chirps and returning to the business of fishing - forgetting for a happy moment that her equine bondmate lacked her taste for fish. Najya just rolled her eyes as the dragon continued her antics, casually moving the fish out of the way with her tattooed foreleg. “Thanks, A’mal,” she murmured, under her breath, failing to contain the peel of laughter just barely hidden beneath the words.