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 December 14, 2012 at 08:03:33 AM by el aran
He was still very young, her son. When Iskelet had been a colt, El Aran had tolerated very little mischief on his part. She raised him as if they had been back in her desert, prey to the bone-stripping wind of howling sandstorms and the sudden tide of the Purebreds swarming in a dark cloud over the distant edge of the horizon. But here, on the Islands of the Lost, she felt it was not necessary to restrict her second child’s youth by imprinting upon him any sense of fear or foreboding. Iskelet had confessed to her, once, how he never felt certain of what tomorrow would hold, and El Aran was determined not to raise her second child as if war was imminent.
The sight of Orhan’s skinny little legs being flung forward and back as he cantered toward her brought a smile to the mare’s dark lips. Despite his gangly appearance when standing still, there was a certain grace and fluidity to his limbs when he moved. It was all the more endearing because the colt wasn’t even aware of it. She whickered a low greeting to her son as he came to a stop beside her, and she braced herself as he rose up to lean his bent legs against her. "Orhan," she said, and let his name linger on the dry, hot air that surrounded them. His small teeth were a reminder to El Aran of how fleeting a childhood could really be. He nibbled her skin with affection; once, fillies and colts fought useless, doomed fights with their small teeth and tiny hooves. The seer was glad to be in Encantador’s Desert. She reached back to nose at Orhan's small hip, wondering what sort of thoughts fluttered about in his head. "Your father was a great horse," El Aran told her son. She breathed against his fur, lipped at a growing patch of gold along his flank. "Reserved. He was confident, and peaceful." The black mare raised her head and snorted, looking out over the flat sands of their home. Once, several years ago, her view had been of gentle rolling hills carpeted in lush grass. Despite the Desert’s pull on her, El Aran found herself missing the Harbor. "He was so young when he stole me away from here. On a whim." Her heart ached for a simpler time, when the wind from the ocean alleviated the sun’s heat and Dany’s company warmed her during cold, relentless storms. The black mare stood silent and still and stared into the distance, looking at a past she could no longer see. el aran
Seer of Aşk. |
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