Zaire started toward the oasis as well, casting one last glance over his shoulder to see if any more of their companions would make it through the circle and spotted Red. But her appearance meant the magic in the fairy circle drying up and he still had yet to see the trio of pirates he'd chosen to join them. This was an outcome that they'd known was a possibility - a very real one - but Zaire couldn't worry about it. His men were just as capable of navigating through the storm as he was and he'd just have to trust that wherever they ended up, they'd make their way safely to the tower as soon as they were able.
For now, it was him and the three women, each viewed with varying degrees of helpfulness, and there was no option but to continue moving forward. Which, right now, meant toward the oasis and when the ground dipped and Brandy lost her footing, Zaire found himself sliding and stumbling along with her as he tried to keep himself upright. His journey down toward the trees wasn't much more dignified than Brandy's but, being used to both the rolling deck of a ship under his feet and being in disorienting situations, he recovered quickly enough.
Brandy: "Fucking hell!"
Reaching out, Zaire grabbed Brandy's arm and tugged her backwards, the tree landing hard in a spray of sand just out of their reach. He didn't bother telling her to be careful; Brandy knew how dangerous Eventyr could be. Besides, Red was quick on that point.
Instead, Zaire took a second to look around. The sand dunes rising up around the oasis provided a bit of relief from the buffeting winds and made visibility much better than it had been on higher ground. "Tanner's Trading Post," he read, gesturing toward a wooden sign. The post was leaning at a solid forty five degree angle and the wood pockmarked, but it was certainly still readable. Beyond the sign were a series of squat buildings, all boarded up against the storm, and Zaire made his way toward the nearest, where a small lean-to at the back would provide a bit of cover so he could look at a map . . .