It had not occurred to him how much he would miss Avangeline. Every step he took he would see a flicker of slender legs flutter out of the corner of his eye. Yet every time he turned his head she was not there. No one was there. His mind was playing tricks upon him—and the longer he went without seeing a familiar face, the more he thought about her. And what perhaps was most concerning was that he often thought of the Akhal-Teke more than his sister these days.
You are just lonely, Al-Hattaal thought to himself. You have no significant feelings for this girl. You cannot.
Especially if Iftikhar were here. Even so much as a wayward thought of affection in regards to Avangeline he was sure would somehow reach the Arabian’s sharp mind. Since their tense encounter he had not seen the red mare however, but that hardly did much to quell his insecurities.
He shook his head, dismissing his worrisome thoughts from his mind. It was best to focus on the present and plan for the future, not to dwell on events of the past that were unchangeable. Flicking his dark tail, Al-Hattaal ventured onward, following the sound of the rushing water that was clearly audible over the empty land. The Falls promised sustenance at least, and keeping himself strong and fit had been his only priority in recent days.
As he reached the edge of the stream that led toward the waterfall, he bent his neck down and touched his black lips to the cool water, drinking his fill. Today, Al-Hattaal would resume his search for his sister. Seher was out there, and he needed her—for more reason than one.
A L - H A T T A A L
Zaman sana uymazsa sen zamana uy.
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