It is a time of great happiness in Yael’s life; her sun and stars has returned to the realm of the living, grandchildren are popping up like daisies, and her children are returning to the land of their birth. Though the drums of war sound faintly in the distance, she does not let fear worm its way into her spirit the way it did so long ago.

There are a few missing pieces, of course. There always are. Mixael and Zilpah have yet to return, and too often it seems like she spends time thinking of those that have wandered beyond B’kanna. They are growing older. One day, unless she can reach them to offer them a longer life, they too will pass into the Afterlife and it might very well break her damn heart all over again. Despite Mixael’s ‘sire,’ and the fallout with Zilpah’s father as well, she loved her first two children fiercely. And how different they were! Meeka was silent and stoic, while Zilpah could talk anyone’s ear off. She imagines that her little bay girl often did - and not just with her own species. They knew her before she had magic. They knew her when she was simply Yael with the golden wings, Queen of the Desert.

Life only got more complicated after that. And even though they were fully grown adults and by far the most competent and successful of her offspring, Yael still felt like she’d neglected Mixael and Zilpah a bit.

She’s seen Rhonen a couple of times before - shortly after his birth and as she’s watched from afar, but she’s never pried into his life. Once they know about her, they are welcome to come and go as they please - but she will not force anything on her descendants. Except for the shiny, golden markings she’s taken to leaving surreptitiously on her grandchildren. Odd colors and resplendent markings are all the rage these days - but these bits of her own color mark the individuals as under her protection; a promise to some, a warning to others.

Rhonen, however, came before that particular idea, and a result looks very much like Mixael, if he were slightly darker. Yael hums happily in the back of her throat as she flies towards him, glinting high above the dunes in the afternoon’s sun. She lands in front of him with a sand-walker’s grace, folding her great wings up against her sides. Yael smiles easily, calling out to the stallion with a surprised and happy tone. “Rhonen! Vhat a surprise!” Though she already knows no one else is with him, she still glances quickly behind him. “Ees everyt’ing alright, dear?” Yael draws up close to him, and reaches out to gently touch the front of his shoulder in a maternal manner.