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Proudly he stands at the ocean's surf, the froth washes around his hooves. Each waves tugs him, as if an invitation back into its depths - an invitation home - back to the war torn sands of his homeland. Where the searing sands were soaked with the blood of both allies and enemies. A war that no one knew who the real enemy was. This enemy was perceived, maybe even made up. His father had always told him it was for the very sands he stood on, but Qa'dir had never believed him. Deep down, he had thought it was his father's own vendetta. A persuasive man his father was, he had always convinced those around him to join him on his raids. He heaves a sigh, and closes his dark eyes. He could not bare to think of the travesties of his homeland.
He pulls himself from the ocean's sands, the only sand he has felt under his hooves since the day arriving here. His hooves greedily dig in, who knows how long until he will touch sand again. Easily he trots up the beach, as he tops the hill, he halts for a brief moment. His muscles ripple beneath his ebony hide, as he fidgets from hoof to hoof. His dark gaze flicks over the other horses of the crossing. Most of them were of mixed blood, his father would of set forth to conquer them, but he, was not his father. He lifts his dished head higher onto his arched neck, letting his gaze flick out farther. Until a familiar floating gait of a fellow Arabian catches his eye. Eagerly, he leaves his position, perhaps these two were from his own home. His hooves gracefully move through the shoots of tender grasses.
As he nears the pair of arabians, he notices the retreating form of a spotted brute. Qa'dir slows as he nears the pair, he eyes the bay male, noticing the arrogance that he carries. Qa'dir moves closer to the pair, when he is within a few feet of the bay stallion. He offers his dark muzzle to the other male in greeting, then turns his attention to the mare. He notices that the stallion does not look upon the arabian mare, interesting. He flicks a single ear at the other stallion. What desert does this bay come from? Qa'dir offers his greeting first in his native tongue. "Salaam. Ana bahij." He waits for a response, or a look of recognition before he continues.