Surprised by the admission that Carisa had not given much thought to a name for their son, Orhan remained quiet for a few moments after, and let his eyes flutter shut for a moment to enjoy the warmth and proximity of the tall mare’s affectionate touch. He had always been under the impression that mares spent a great deal of time mulling over the perfect name for their unborn child, given they had so long to prepare for its arrival, but then again, he supposed it made sense that this tradition meant little to Carisa. What use were names to someone who could not hear?

For Orhan, this was the opportunity he had been waiting for. Names had always held a certain significance for him, ever since his mother had explained to him when he was very young that the ‘El’ in her name meant that she was a seer, just as his grandsire El Barroco had been. Though she had never elaborated on what exactly a ‘seer’ was, he had known it was something very important, and that El Aran’s name therefore made her special. Now that he had the opportunity to bestow a name upon his firstborn son, Orhan knew that he must make it something special too. And he had the perfect idea.

“There is a word in my mother’s native tongue - the language she taught me as a child - which means ‘ember moon’. I think it would be perfect for our little prince,” Orhan explained to Carisa, his eyes glittering. “Kor-ay,” he mouthed carefully, rolling the ‘R’ and rhyming the second syllable with ‘eye’. He watched the mare carefully to be sure she had ‘heard’ him correctly, and to gauge her reaction to his suggestion. Hope simmered in his belly.