Orhan tensed as the stallion took a step toward him, but held his ground. His ears pricked at his words, then slid back to sit flat against his crest once his brain had processed them. He has been talking to Ana? He tilted his chin up with indignation to disguise the fear that washed over him like a cold wave, and as the stallion continued to talk, his frown deepened. Mistrust sat heavy in his gut.
However, he remained silent, drinking in the situation and turning his attention to the black mare when she took the reins of the conversation. She seemed more genuine than her fellow, and Orhan’s expression softened slightly as he took her in, though he did not react to her words until she dropped a name that was significant to him. A’idah. Orhan’s lips parted, and his eyes darted back and forth between mare and stallion as they made to leave.
“Wait,” he called, pricking his ears and taking a step after them. To the mare he said, “You know A’idah?” Pausing only a moment, his eyes darted back to Maslakhat, and his expression went firm again. “And you – what history do you have with my mother? Why should I trust you, after the way you behaved the last time you were here?”
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