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Mosenth, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing. His brightly red and orange colored runes were right at home in Hieratic, sitting in the desert. It was not so far in as the other herd, whatever it's name was. If not for the hills of sand in the way, he was sure the greenland would be visible as an extremely thin line in the distance. All one had to do was crest the first hill on the opposite side of the herd from the palace grounds than keep going straight. Each new hill would give clue as to which way the adventurer was going and how far from the greenland they were. Simple matter to come and go between the two. If only wished to make the still-long journey as the short stallion was on occasion to do. Today he was here on Pharaoh's business. Nefertari required fresh water and certain plants with which to make her lotion. The only one she could trust to bring back the necessary ingredients and not return with poison was him. Morrigan as well, but her duty was to the herd and its army. Mosenth's was only to doing the every whim of the Pharaoh.

Not that he was complaining. Going to the greenland offered him a good chance to stretch his legs and relax. It was almost like a vacation. He didn't have to hasten back. She only sent him out when her reserves were running low. Not when she was desperately in need of more. He figured he had at least a week out here before he had to return.

The bags on the stallion's back bounced as he cantered, keeping his ears shifting around for the sound of running water, his eyes for the required plants. Each time he reached the greenland he stepped foot on a different part of it and had to run around until he knew where he was. Mosenth had always been a desert boy. He had been born there and he always did his grave robbing there. Before Nefertari had found him, he had been living in a small cave near the burial grounds of the ancient Pharaohs. In the site of the lower class graves. Those that either earned it or had saved enough to afford it. There wasn't usually anything good in these tombs so he used them to store his own treasures.

Slowing to a trot, Mosenth's brightly lite eyes trained themselves on a point to his left. Something was shining blue in the distance. His first reaction was curiosity and excitement, thinking it something from a lost civilization that someone had equally lost. As far as he could tell there was no civilization in this streak of land, ancient or new. He moved closer to it, already pondering if there would be room in his bags when he realized it wasn't an object: It was a mare with similar markings to his. Knowing his own would make it impossible to hide at this point, he continued to move closer at the same speed, raising his voice to shout a greeting at her.

Mosenth stopped a safe distance away, sensing the unease in the air. He was not a fighter. Or a lover. He was simply a coward and if she wished to fight him, he was going to turn tail as fast as his little body could take him. He was quite the runner and his stamina took a long time to even begin to run down. He had to be, when he made his main profession in life stealing. From graves. Herd stockpiles. The odd sleeping Star. He'd been caught only once. It was not an experience he wished to repeat.

"I have not seen one who looks like me in a long time," he remarked, bowing his head a little so he looked smaller and even less intimidating than he already did. Perhaps if he had been taller, like most stallions, he'd pose more of a threat. No one seemed to take him seriously at all. And that was fine. It let him slip under the radar much easier. He was sneaky on top of being fast, cunning as well as possessing a high stamina. He knew when to get out of a situation and when it would benefit him. Usually.

"Have I missed a herd bearing our markings in my travels?"

Mosenth merely shrugged his shoulders. He'd never let on to anyone that everything scared him anyway, be it in darkness or in the light. Besides, when Nefertari asked you to do something, you didn't have the luxury of saying no, another time. Not that he minded too much, really. He was quite skilled by now in staying under cover, even with his brightly covered body. All one needed was some camouflage.

"There is always something to fear," he answered, not moving an inch. Like the mummy's wrath if he returned without the ingredients she has asked of him. That scared him more than the night did. She may be slow to take back her revenge on her brother, but he was convinced she wouldn't let him get away so easily if he angered her. No matter how far away he ran. "I am merely on an errand for the Grand Pharaoh in the desert.' He gave a slight nod of his head to the saddlebags on his back. "Can't say I know much about fate. Or destiny. Or believe in it. But I suppose it's some sort of luck that someone like me has found some protection from the world in a herd such as hers." Luck and his cunning. He'd almost gotten himself ripped apart back when he first met the old corpse. His quick thinking and silver tongue saved his hide. And continued to save his hide from her. But than it would be foolish of her to discard someone who obeyed so willingly. Unless Parushta proved more useful. The little colt's grooming was coming along well. Too well. Maybe he should find an opportunity to sabotage it.