The stallion drooled, then dared to invade her personal space. El Aran stood firm and lifted her head higher, ears flattening as she rolled her eyes in warning. Her heart pounded uncomfortably in her narrow chest and when she felt the stallion’s hot breath against her dusty coat, she shuddered. Never before had she felt so... so.. scrutinized? Even the Purebreds had not paid this much attention to her in the desert. El Aran had simply been one more half-breed among many, disdained only a little more than the others due to her status as a seer. Or, in the words of her enemies, a False Seer. The curly haired stallion next to her had impressive focus.
His words had merit, but El Aran still did not feel safe. Time would tell whether or not this stallion would last longer than the others, but this had been the first encounter in her home where she felt that stallion had the same strong priorities as her own. Even if he did refer to the herd as “pack.” "Yes," she said, lest he interpret silence as disagreement. "And I protect mine." She lifted her ears and lowered her head a notch to be sure the stallion understood. El Aran would not tolerate threats against the mares in her herd —their herd— and soon her new herdmate would understand that the seer was as vigilant as any stallion.
The stallion stepped forward again and now they were so close she was almost afraid to breathe. El Aran resorted to short, quick breaths to avoid even accidentally brushing her skin against his as her adrenaline spiked a second time. She did not like to be touched. Even when she had roamed these sands with Encantador, it was not something she had encouraged or initiated often. When the stallion touched her cheek, her ears flattened again and her eyes closed to slits. There was no aggression in the gesture, but it was foreign enough and from a horse strange enough that every nerve he touched felt on fire.
"Herd first," she agreed through gritted teeth as he moved his head away from her face. She opened her eyes to regard the textured fur on his forehead. This stallion was strange, and yet she felt they had an understanding that went beyond words. Herd first, pack first: everything for the good of the whole and not the individual. Perhaps if Chua had stuck around, all those years ago, their herd would have run in much the same way. But the sibilant stallion had abandoned her just like all the others. She was eager to know if the male before her was truly as group-oriented as he sounded. "I am El Aran," she said as her ears lifted. "What is your name?"
By the time this interaction was done she knew she would be exhausted and limp as her energy drained. El Aran’s anxiety was not a new experience. She knew the pattern it would follow, but at least this time she had someone she could rely on to watch her back while she recovered.
el aran
Seer of Aşk. |