The neighboring Badlands had initially drawn his curiosity, as he noticed on patrol of his borders that the steep crags of rock and hardened sand were no longer part of the Dunes as they once were years ago. He encountered two mares across the border there. The young Arabian was more befit to survive within the arid landscape than the other, but she had clearly acclimated as a child of Orhan, fortunate to be born among the sands. He had intrigued the Arabian enough to entice her to visit the Dunes, and as his mind wandered to the days when Orhan controlled the Desert, he found himself increasingly interested in learning about who reigned over the expanse of those storied sands in this day and age. It was high time he pay them a visit. With luck, he might find another wayward hotblood worthy of enticing, or even Ak Burun’s itinerant sister, Shararat.

As the rolling hills of sand grew flatter and flatter, he ambled casually into the bounds of the neighboring territory, new scents awash within his nostrils as he lifted his long, lithe neck and took his nose into the wind. There were plenty of signs of inhabitants here, and so he called out a signet of arrival, making clear with his bugle that he did not have malicious objectives, lest a leader come charging at him with accusatory intentions. For now, this was a friendly visit—his primary objective simply to see precisely who he was dealing with.

Flicking his tail, he kept his amber eyes alert as he scanned the expanse in front of him. With nowhere to hide, he waited.


MASLAKHAT

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