Whispers of the Sand.

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Another Chance.


They came upon the burning Caravan in the dead of night. It was eerily surreal. Then Magala sprang into action, gesturing so that the sand was moving like water dousing over the flames and subduing them. Their people were already moving towards the caravan searching for survivors. Horim and his family had split up and where going wherever they got a call from someone. Girah was checking to see if there was anyone around that may have caused this and may have been circling back. Yara was telling the Caravan Elder what she could glean from the voices of the dead. It took them to the wee morning hours before they found that they only had three survivors. Magala met Horim as he emerged from the Healing Tent.

He looked tired but happy. "They are going to make it and without a scar too." Magala smiled with him and patted his shoulder. "By the way," Horim said grinning as the other two came up, "The survivors names as Furi, Norel and Jia." They all shared a short moment of silence and then they broke out into big grins. Horim gestured to the tent. "She's awake and wants to see us." They all glanced up to sky for a brief moment, each one remembering a white Hall and a tall Woman. Then they moved together to enter the tent and welcome the missing piece back into their lives.

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