Redsand Canyon sunset

Reyson listened. The desert, if memory served it was a dry, desolate place. He had lost men on forays to the desert, more to lack of water than death by battle. It had been awful. Though she sounded fond of it, though if you were born there, perhaps you were made of different stock.

He lay his burden down and looked to her. Are you alright? He wasn't sure what had transpired, but she seemed almost ill. It was then that he truly took notice of her, the gentle widening sides, though he couldn't be certain, he wondered. But for now he would wait until she spoke again, if she could. He probably wouldn't be much help in any capacity, but he would try.