I daydreamed to keep my mind off the cold. I thought of the past summer I'd spent learning from my alaba' about my place in our family, and what they expected of me come the next spring. Somehow, I'd managed to wheedle my way out of being gifted away this past fall by begging my jida, and together we'd managed to get my alab to wait just one more year. I was supposed to be learning how to be a lady. A mare worthy of carrying on our family's bloodlines.
Really though, I'd been nothing more than an ungrateful, spiteful child. I see this now ony in retrospect. At the time, I thought my willful disobedience was just me finding my own path to walk. Now, I would give anything to be back in my 'umi's warm embrace.
An approaching figure jerks me back to the present and I raise my finely dished head with ears pinned in warning. The figure before me looks almost like someone from home - the fine lines of her figure, the shape of her ears is remanant of the others of our herd. Not my family of course, she's no Arabian, but she looks like home and I soften slightly, even though I am baffled by the plush coat she wears. How would I get one of those?
My walls are further softened by her gentle approach and the kind words she offered in my language. It was as though Arsu had seen my fear and smiled upon me. How else could I explain this maternal figure materializing from the depths of the frozen wasteland with the offer of warmth and respite?
My suspicion melted and I skipped across the ground between us to curl into her side, my head against her shoulder. The shivering intensified at first, but quickly lessened and I murmured quietly into the air, my eyes closed in the blissfulness of simply not being cold anymore. "'Ant hibat min allah."
After a long moment, I open my eyes to gaze upon her once more. "'Ashkarak hadiat allh. 'Ayn 'ana?" I turn slightly to look out at the unforgiving landscape with it's swirling particles of ice and bitter wind. A worried frown twists on my lips before parting to murmur, "hadha lays manzili."