“Oh,” I say, and it’s hard to keep the relief from my voice, “Oh okay. I’m glad it’s a good size.” I can only hope that the other amres are as excited about the prospect of a new member as I am. I imagine that after a while telling the same old stories must grow old. Or do they not tell stories? I’m not entirely sure what they get up to while I’m gone, actually. It’s an interesting thought.

“It’s this way,” I say, gesturing toward the south with my horned head, “I’ll show you.”

As we walk, I point out other places, the paths to other lands. I’m not sure if she’s familiar with Beqanna and decide that extra information can bring no harm.

When we arrive in the canyon that the Orange Country is mainly in I stop, having rounded the bend in the limestone that reveals the greenery of the herdland. “What do you think?” I ask, torn between looking for the other mares and wanting to see Sloene’s reaction to the place. Everyone that I’ve brought here has seemed to be in awe, and it is nice to have that reassurance that the place I chose as a home is beautiful as well as suitable.

The pressure of Naira’s shoulder and the gentle feeling of her muzzle on by neck does a great deal to relieve the stress I was feeling, and I glance down at her with a grateful smile. Rather than say anything – though the gratitude is clear in my expression – I tug gently at her blonde mane in a playful manner before bumping her shoulder with my own. She is looking more tired by the second and I am glad that I had made my suggestion when I had.

“I won’t let anything hurt you,” I say, knowing all too well the thoughts that often linger behind sentences that never quite finish. I mean it, too. There is little danger in the Orange Country – the jackals of the Desert do not descend the canyon walls – but I intend to stay alert through the night to ensure that whatever Naira seems to fear might be chasing her does not catch up. “You’ll be safe there.” We’ll both feel better in the morning, I reason. A good night’s sleep and a full meal always goes a long way to soothing any troubles.

The trip is a short one, and I lead the way. The sand of the dunes gives way to red dust and stone, and then the ground falls away in front of us. I lead Naira along the edge of the canyon until we come upon the trail. It is wide but not well-worn, a consequence of the decline in herd popularity in Beqanna in the last few centuries. Nevertheless, I am confident as I make my way down, picking the smoothest path for Naira. There is no river at the bottom of the canyon, but it is clear that there had been one at some point. I follow the trail of water-smoothed stones until we round the last bend in the canyon. This close to nightfall it is hard to see anything, but the smell of flowing water and lush greenery is clear despite the low light. The small waterfall is a reassuring sound, and I can just pick out the white of it at the top of the canyon as I lead Naira toward the orange grove.

“Here we are,” I say, turning back to the palomino mare with a tired smile of my own. “Feel free to settle in and sleep, I’m just going to see how the other mares are.” I’m sure they are fine – Nymeria and Illusen are both more than capable of taking care of themselves – but I still feel that it is my responsibility. “I’ll see you in the morning.” I reach for her out of habit, wrapping my neck around hers so that my cheek rests on the opposite side of her neck. Only after doing so do I realize that such a gesture might make her uncomfortable, and I pull away quickly. “Goodnight,” I say after a moment, and then turn to tend to the other members of the herd.

A week ago I might have shied away, but I extend my muzzle without hesitation. She feels like a cloud too, is the first thought that comes to mind, and I pull away with a shy smile.

Illusen talks of the army and how I must be an asset to them, and I wonder how best to tell her that I have not the least amount of battle experience. Part of it is my own choice, but it is mostly a result of the peace that currently spreads across Beqanna. There is no need for bloodshed and no call for war. As I planned the beginning of my own herd however, it’s occurred to me that that I might have to fight to defend them. I would need to other reason, I realize as Illusen steps a little closer – of course I would fight to defend her, and Nymeria too.

She speaks to Pomona, thanking the brightly-winged mare for her help, and glance toward the west, where my home is. When she looks back at me though, I turn quickly, looking down at her beside me with a broad smile. “Of course,” I reply, “Whatever you would like.” It’s true, I realize. How strange. “Goodbye.” I tell Pomona quickly, and then bump my shoulder very gently against Illusen.

“It’s this way,” I say, stepping forward to start the trip to the Orange Country. I am surethat she will walk beside me, so I continue, and we make our way through the common lands, and then along the path that leads through Misty Rapids. As we walk along the ever shrinking creek, the land around us begins to rise, until it is clear that we are in the orange canyons that some say give my herd land its name. As we round the final bend though, the lush scent of ripe citrus reaches my nose, and I know we have arrived. This is why I think it is called Orange Country.

Though the river is dry, there remains a deep pool against the canyon wall that waters our oasis. It is not enormous – no more than five acres – but I find it flawless. “What do you think?” I ask, turning to Illusen at my side. I can recall Nymeria’s first reaction with perfect clarity, and hope that the cloud mare beside me will be just as appreciative.