though she has only been away from salem a short time, speaking of it causes her heart to long for the endless sands and the scorching sun. her own dark eyes become similarly vacant as she turns her fine head toward the southern isle, pulled like a magnet toward her homeland. once upon a time she had travelled with one goal in mind, to find her mother, any trace of her family, and just when she had accepted that it would never happen, that she would remain alone, she had found bahadir. since then, it was his affection and the desire to make a home on salem that kept her content. she wasn’t sure if there was a love for her in this life other than the burning sand beneath her hooves and the caress of palms across her back. the world shifts, as it had once before, and her attention snaps into focus as she listens. indira? it is an uncommon name but she has heard it before. bhaskara blinks, eyes straining as she peers harder at the mare before her. her curled ears, a strange gift from her mothers heritage, splay as she considers the possibility. so many times as a young filly and mare she had repeated her mantra as she searched. i am the youngest daughter of arcana. daughter of orhan. sister of evren. sister of indira. remembrance of it had gained her one sibling, so far. could this be the second? her contemplation is broken as the mare before her shifts, as if to leave, and bhaskara cannot contain herself. ”wait”, she shouts, as if the painted mare could just disappear into thin air at will. the stranger pauses, whether due to her outburst or not she isn’t sure. bhaskara interrupts her sympathizing, unable to contain her statement. ”i am a sister to indira. i am a child of the desert. last daughter of arcana. sister to bahadir. it is the desert that i desire, the home of my father orhan. and you, you are evren.” she asserts the guess boldly, her mahogany skin shivering with curiosity. there is a tiny pang of hurt, one she hadn’t expected, that prickles her soul. she had spent so much time searching. years…. for any trace of her family. why had no one ever searched for her? bhaskara smothers the feeling, not wanting any hint of resentment to cloud what she thought might be another momentous reunion. her dark eyes scrutinize every detail of the mare before her, and a fresh wave of hope wells in her breast. |