Your King Asmodeus | ||
Your Queen | ||
The Second None | ||
The Herd Name, Name, Name | The Sub-Herd Name, Name, Name | |
Allies Name (Land) | Enemies Solomon (Cove) | |
The Rules
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Posted on October 28, 2012 at 05:31:37 PM by El Aran
They were alone, and yet El Aran did not feel lonely. There was a sudden absence of the heavy emotional load that had been sitting on her withers for so long that she had grown accustomed to the weight. It had become comfortable, almost. Like a second skin she had worn it, using it to protect herself. The black mare had been wearing it ever since she had left her beloved desert, building it around herself with every step that took her farther away from home. It was loneliness that had protected her when Chua abandoned the herd, when Sarabi and Daenerys drifted in and out of her life like wind, when Encantador first left the islands and returned and slept the final sleep. Loneliness was all she had left, until now. The black mare twisted to bump her nose against the rump of her son as he ducked beneath her. It was good that he was finally nursing; her bag had felt tight and sore all morning as she waited for him to pass out of her body and into the world’s hard embrace. She tried to remember what it was like to be so young, hardly an hour old, and to take in the world all at once. El Aran remembered very little of her childhood. Most had been spent running, heart galloping faster than her feet as terror fueled her movements. Like all the foals of the herd, she had been scrawny and undernourished. It was through Aşk’s grace that the herd had found a safe oasis on the edge of the Desert long enough for one generation, at least, to grow to their full potential. She snorted and turned her head toward the water at her front. Her head dipped to the luke-warm liquid and she drank. Before her thirst had been slaked, she lifted muzzle away from the water and stared at their home. When she had been pregnant, she had imagined Encantador would play a significant part in their child’s upbringing. But he had succumbed to the Desert, and the herd, never strong to begin with, had scattered as easily as tumbleweeds before a breeze. "He might have been whole. We might have been whole," she murmured. "Aşk, bize kurtarmak." El Aran twisted her ears, listening to the Desert’s wind and the low sounds of the life that shared their home. Empty territories were a rarity on the Islands, and she wondered how long it would be before a stallion came to her land and tried to claim it as his own. Her ears flattened at the thought, and she reached around her barrel to nose at her son’s rear again. She would watch and be wary, but she would not leave at the behest of anyone save herself. El Aran had never allowed herself to be owned. "This is our home," she whispered to her son. "This Desert with its dryness and heat: it is ours. Someday, it may be yours if you so choose. You will not be chained by anything, and you will rise like Daenery’s Spires against the horizon and protect those who seek shelter in your shade. Blood of my blood, son of my heart, someday you will be great." And yet, deep in her gut she knew that he was already. "Orhan. A great leader I name you, and a great leader you shall be." El Aran finished this announcement with an affection nip to his rump before she lifted her head and stared across the flat, desolate sands. Seer of Aşk
♥ Uforia |
Replies:
- dust becomes us all, in the end - By O R H A N October 31, 2012 at 04:18:01 PM
- [x] - By El Aran October 31, 2012 at 06:42:45 PM
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