---
Her Friend jumped in a circle around her. It chittered in bursts and dipped its head toward the east. Miryam chittered back without words and swiped the air with a small claw. They did not share a soul thread, but play had its own language. Friend stamped little dots into the sand, then drew a long line through them with its tail. Many. Then it drew four thicker dots and circled them. Leaders. It raised its nose and sneezed. People. The desert was talking.
Miryam crouched. "The desert is talking," she said. "Many are passing."
Friend tapped three bigger dots and drew a circle around them. Leaders. It lifted its nose, sniffed, and sneezed. Soldiers.
Her eyes widened. Curiosity warmed her cheeks. "Are they like my papa," she asked. "I want to see them. Where are they? Can we go there?"
