His skin tingled where she had touched him. Orhan tried to ignore the feeling in an attempt to keep a clear head while they strolled, but the sensation lingered and seemed to strengthen, liked a fanned flame, whenever his eyes returned to her. As soon as he realized this, he began to pay more attention to the landscape ahead.
He recalled a dark mare named Kazga who had once ignited a similar feeling in him. He knew what it meant, and for reasons he could not explain, it made him anxious. He was not sure he wanted it again.
The buckskin stallion halted in place, his hooves digging firmly into the sand as his head swivelled toward the chestnut mare. Had he heard her correctly? Mouth gaping, his dark eyes widened and his face slackened in dumbfoundment. He searched Vesti’s face to judge how serious she was. Yet there was no trace of humor there: nothing to indicate she was being anything other than completely genuine.
His stomach felt cold.
“Uh,” he said finally. There was a long pause. “No. I mean, sort of. I always thought, maybe someday, but... Are.... are you saying... you...?”
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