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Nekharat continued staring, her eyes wide with incredulous amusement. Her expression did not soften as she explained the gesture she made was meant as a claiming nip and that if she hadn’t done it, a stallion might also come and claim her instead. She disliked the implication of this word she used, inferring that she could be possessed by another. Stamping her narrow hoof, she snorted loudly.
“This is an offensive custom,” she stated. “If you want to truly claim someone, as you say, you cannot do so with only a nip.”
Yes, it was not so simple. Which part of her did this mare decide she had lay claim to? Her heart? Mind? Body? The totality of her being? None of these were available to her today. The keys to unlock each of them were hidden away deep, and Nekharat was not the type to offer any of them so willingly—unless there was something of equal value offered in return.
As she continued, she spoke of her desire to have the red mare join her in a place she called her “temporary home,” and when the seasons turned and her child stood on his own, she hoped to win back her “old home.” Nekharat tilted her head as she listened carefully, but not before long there was another.
A fine-boned stallion came floating over the wiry, dry grass, no doubt of desert bloodlines. It was as though her companion had summoned him with her explanation. He taunted her with his tongue, jeering at her choices and the irony thereof. It was clear they had some history, but the Akhal-Teke need not wait long to learn the story. Bahadir introduced himself as the sultan of the Dunes, a place this mare had called her former home. A glimmer of interest flickered in Nekharat’s eyes, as her mind worked to dissect the situation.
“I am Nekharat,” she offered first, for the benefit of them both and then turned back towards the mare. “Why select me?”
“And you,” she continued, turning toward Bahadir. “Explain how you came to rule over these Dunes.”
NEKHARAT
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