<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 July 2, 2015 at 07:07:18 PM by el halin

El Halin

Ava�s reply fills El Halin with a great wave of hate. She pins her ears and glares ahead of them, nostrils flaring as she draws in deep, angry breaths. �Breeders,� she spits from between her teeth. �Barbarians, more like. As if his anger justifies his crime against you� he was angry, so he believes he shouldn�t be held accountable.� The bloodmarked mare swats her high-held tail against her hindquarters and snorts in disgust. �We execute stallions like that. There is no excuse for such behavior, no justification, and it is not to be tolerated.�

Unless, of course, an Arabian has fallen so far out of his or her herd�s graces that their rank renders them less than an individual until they can redeem themselves. It is one thing to control who breeds with whom, the High Seer thinks as her dark eyes scan Ava�s injuries again. Something else entirely for a breeder to decide whom he will mount regardless of consent. There is a reason the mares in the desert act so viciously toward their male counterparts. Much like certain plants have developed thorns for protection, it is a necessity for Arabian warriors to assert their individuality over the stallions in the herds. History has proven that breeders, if allowed the same freedoms and equality as mares, will eventually entertain the idea that they are more entitled to what they want than a mare is entitled to refuse. El Halin�s ears press harder against her poll before she realizes, belatedly, that her herd mate�s misery has intensified.

She lifts her ears and leans closer to Ava. �Weeping wastes water,� The High Seer says, and though her voice is firm she tries to sound kind. �Reserve your strength so if you see that zampara again, you have the energy to break the bones in his face. That is how it is done: knock him to his knees and ruin him.� The last two words she enunciates in a low, strong voice, loading each syllable with satisfaction as she imagines delivering the punishment herself.

It is unlikely that such a thing will come to pass, however, and El Halin will not waste her time or energy seeking out a mongrel rapist for a mongrel mare. Still, the spotted amber champagne is under her protection as newly elected lead mare of the Desert, and El Halin intends to take that role seriously in the time that she is here.

�Come,� she says, stepping away and looking toward the oasis they have nearly reached. �Drink. Replenish your strength. I will stand watch for you.�

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

�Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare�

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