Falls

Bhaskara, the mare names herself, and Evren extends her nose to let their muzzles meet with gentle pressure. The gesture is careful and hesitant, and Evren’s shining copper eyes are wide as they stare back into the face that so resembles her own. With that touch, they have bridged the crevasse of history that has held them apart their entire lives. Evren feels magic in that touch: a magic that helps reignite the flame that had begun guttering out in the absence of Indira and Tarek. As they pull away, Evren closes her eyes briefly, in part to etch that moment into her memory forever but also to stifle the tears that threaten to spill. Sisters they may be, but Evren wants to hold herself in check until they know one another better.

“I’m so glad to have run into you, Bhaskara,” she says with an earnest smile, imagining what might have happened if she had picked another horse - any other horse - to question.

She pricks her ears at Bhaskara’s proposition, her face growing momentarily solemn with thought. She is touched by her sister’s offer, but senses the mare would not have made it without the revelation that had just shaken them both. “I don’t want to pull you away from anything,” Evren says, thinking of Bhaskara’s quest to reclaim their homeland on Salem, “but… Indira is our full-sister. The eldest. She doesn’t know about you either, so she’d be overjoyed if I introduced the two of you.” Evren’s face brightens at the thought, her white-striped tail lashing with excitement.

“I was planning on looking on Salem next - I haven’t been back in years, and I thought Indira and Tarek might have decided to shelter from the war there.” A storm cloud passes over her face. “I’m guessing you probably don’t know about that - or did rumor get around?” She lets out a wry chuckle. “We have so much to catch up on, don’t we?”