†
When he enters the glade the mare starts toward him eagerly, as if they are old friends, or lovers. He sees the light of recognition as it leaves her eyes and blinks the last bit of sleep out of his own as she jerks away, repulsed by his unfamiliarity, throwing her refined head in the air and flashing her teeth. Temblor braces himself for a brawl and watches the storm of emotions cross her face. It is a brief tempest, but fierce, and though she relaxes he remains alert.
Her response to his less-than cordial greeting is witty. His ears twitch, amusement tugging up one corner of his mouth, feeling in better spirits now that he's shaken off the last vestiges of his nap. "For some, solitude is as good as heaven," he rejoins, even though she is right— this land would feel all the richer if he had a herd within it.
She stares at him for a bit, though whether to admire him or size him up he cannot say. Temblor observes her in turn: lithe and supple, she stands confidently in the center of this hidden oasis, comfortable as a wolf in its own den. She knows Paradise, he thinks, and she confirms it by asking after Rougaru and his herd.
Temblor's fading irritation spikes back to life, and he shakes his head to quell his rising frustration. Is this the cross he must bear, then, as the new owner of Paradise? Answering for the absence of a stallion he's never met, fielding the questions of concerned family and friends regarding the whereabouts of the former herd when this territory was hollow when he found it, perfumed only by the natural world bursting at all of Atlantis's seams?
"I've no idea," he replies crisply. Then, he tempers the frost in his voice and adds with a little more warmth, "Some other fellow ran into me shortly after I arrived, asking much the same questions. I'll tell you what I told him: this land was empty when I found it, any scent of horse long gone stale. Sorry," he adds with a shrug of one dappled shoulder. He chooses not to mention Sonorae. He feels responsible for the gray mare's safety—he is determined to deliver her into Rougaru's keeping alone, if that is her wish, so that he does not inadvertently send her away with another member of the 'pack' as dubiously well-intentioned as Annubis.
"Who is he to you?" Temblor asks. Clearly not a former herd member. Perhaps an old ally, or a childhood friend. Maybe another child, he thinks, searching her face for any sign of resemblance to the silver buckskin.
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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