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The mare who approached her out of the corner of her eye made no effort to be subtle. Nekharat flicked her ears backwards, listening as her intentions became more apparent. She watched and waited, choosing to stand her ground mostly out of curiosity as the other mare came closer.
The stranger was taller than her, thicker boned with a distinctively baroque frame. Not from the desert, but further north. She bore the marks of a recent battle as well, and the Akhal-Teke wondered if they were related to the roundness of her belly.
She did not expect the nip, and any flashes of pity she had for the other mare disappeared in an instant. Nekharat tossed her head and instinctively kicked out behind her with a single back leg, fixing her dark eyes on the stranger as she backed away. Her sparse red tail whipping, she snorted loudly at the nerve of this mare who brazenly placed her teeth on her shoulder the moment they met.
Hello, sorry. Her immediate apology only confused Nekharat even more, as she quizzically stared at her for several moments. What strange custom was this? Clearly not a favorable one, otherwise she wouldn’t feel the need to start a conversation this way.
“Um, yes,” Nekharat answered in the common tongue. It was likely rather obvious, given her reaction. Anyone else from this land might have known what this forward gesture meant. “Care to explain yourself?” She retorted, shifting her weight in preparation for a sudden leap in another direction if she didn’t like her answer.
NEKHARAT
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