Orhan

The stallion felt Arcana's weight shift beneath him, but it was only when she spoke that he realized she was awake. Her voice was weak and croaky, but this Orhan put down to tiredness. He drew his chin from her withers and stepped forward to bump her nose with his, in silent apology for disturbing her rest. She was so warm and soft and pleasant to touch; his skin rippled with pleasure at their proximity.

"The stars woke me," he replied, murmuring into her jawline. "I wanted to share them with you."

The stars no longer interested him, of course: not now that they were together. He closed his eyes and heaved a content sigh, and had just begun to lean his head against the sinew of her neck when a scent reached him. It was subtle, but unmistakable. Salt? his eyes snapped open and his brow furrowed. The breeze was too gentle to have carried the smell of the ocean so far across the dunes, and if Arcana had taken a midnight dip the scent should have been much stronger.

Shifting his weight to stand straight, the stallion sidestepped from Arcana and looked at her with new eyes. In the dim light of the stars, her bold splashes of white were almost luminous, and the rest of her was more or less lost in shadow, but he could still see the general outline of her body: the slumped posture he had mistaken for slumber; the droop of her lip he had taken for relaxation. And then, finally, there was the shine on her face that was due to more than just starlight.

Orhan twisted his ears back; he felt his gut tighten. "Arcana, what's wrong?"