<font color=#e4e0d7><i>�Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare.�</i></font>

Your King Asmodeus
Your Queen ~~Nyimara~~
The Second None
The Herd Name, Name, Name		The Sub-Herd Name, Name, Name
Allies Name (Land)		Enemies Solomon (Cove)
The Rules There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue. We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc. The King and Queen have final say in all matters.

�Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare.�
Posted on April 4, 2015 at 07:31:29 PM by el halin

El Halin

It is unlike El Halin to ask for anything. She is not used to it, and the feeling of facing potential rejection does not sit well with her. As the stallions apologizes she resists the urge to shift her weight from left to right. His words mean little to the High Seer: she has already decided his slight against her will carry consequences, but not now. Later, when she is done with this business with the Blind Seer, there will be more than enough time to put this breeder in his place.

The relief that trickles through her when the stallion does not reject her from the Desert surprises the gray mare, but she accepts it readily enough. Things are different here. So must she also be different, to a degree, in order to fit in without raising too much suspicion. Asking for a home without knowing whether or not she will be successful is just one example of how she must adhere to the peculiar dynamics of these Isles in order to both survive and achieve her goals. Now that she has been accepted (a process that took less than a breath, when one cut out the irrelevant conversation), her next step will be to bring Iftikhar home.

Such was her initial, plan, anyway. El Halin wonders now if it will not be better to keep the red mare at a distance, and have Iftikhar continue to collect what information she can around the Isles while El Halin ingratiates herself with some of the natives. So. The bloodmarked mare dips her dished head in a deep nod to the stallion in quiet outward acceptance of his apology, then lifts it to ask, �Is there something or someone you are wary of? I have practice with patrolling borders and acting as a sentry, but I can only help if I know who or what I am to be looking for.�

She flicks her tail as he introduces himself, but his name is unfamiliar to her and he does not look like any horse she has heard described in any prophecy, likely because his bloodlines are so muddled he has no definable breed to call his own. El Halin almost pities the mutt.

�You may call me Nasmat. It means �a breath of life.� I am looking forward to meeting the others who call this place home.�

Initially, El Halin had not intended to lie, but much hinges upon her remaining a part of this herd. She does not know enough about this breeder or the mares he lives with to feel comfortable revealing her true name, and so she chooses the name of an unremarkable and passive mare she once lived with to disguise her true rank and purpose on these Isles. Perhaps, when she delivers whatever punishment she deems suitable for this breeder in the future, she will introduce herself to him properly. For now her pseudonym will do.

mare // arabian // fleabitten gray // fourteen.three hh // eight // uforia

�Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare�

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