The black mare told herself she could not sleep, but it was between fuzzy-edged moments of half-thought, when she surfaced from darkness and gasped for the light like a ship upon the sea as it breaks through the waves, its prow pushed up to point at the sky before it crests a wave and rolls downwards toward the unfathomable blackness it floats above.
She stood at the edge of her oasis, head hanging to her knees, and twitched from time to time as her mind fought against the much-needed sleep that her exhausted body craved. It had been like this for days, for weeks, for years. El Aran cannot remember the last time she slept well, much less during the night. She preferred to feel the heat of the sun on her head and blanketing her back to the cold starlight and wandering moon. The darkness had much to hide.
Even as she eased past the first decade of her life, a thousand miles away from her birthplace and the war that ravaged it more fiercely than the sun, the seer was still hyper-aware of her surroundings. She rose toward consciousness once more as the soft scuff of her son’s hooves attracted the attention of one black ear. He was aware of her problem, of her inability to sleep soundly or to trust anyone (for even at Encantador’s side, El Aran feared for the safety of herself and her herd, and though Orhan had come from her loins and had yet to let her down, still the black mare doubted his ability to stave off an ambush), and the soft exhale he blew toward her was appreciated even as it startled her into wakefulness.
She gasped and brought her head up, knees locked and body trembling as she pointed her nose at her son and panted. Once, she would have lunged from sleep and straight at the flesh of whoever was nearest her, but time away from war and panic and pain had softened her reflexes. The seer snorted harshly, but her irritation was not for Orhan. It was for her laxness. Someday, it might be the death of her or her kin.
"Speak," she told her son, and tilted her ears back until her heart had slowed to a more reasonable pace.
el aran
Seer of Aşk. |