no stallion
▻ no children (x no one) ◅
She had not fit in with the Sadim, not in a long time. In fact, she is not sure that she ever had. The not-welcome firstborn of a King who hadn’t kept himself for his new queen. It seemed antiquated, backwards, no different than the rumored stallions of her father’s people. But she did feel badly that the one who was so jealous seemed to be a good mare, by all respects, and that she had such a hard time after her own half sister was stolen from them…
So after such a long time in her father’s care - she ventures out. Fully grown and hardly a young girl anymore, she imagines that there was little to surprise herself with.
She was obviously desert bred, primarily at least, and her color was that of the central island’s beach sands, dappled as if it had rained on the beach. Along her neck was a broken black and white mane with the same to be said of her tail. She was not as golden as when she was born - matching her mother so well as she had once done. Her father’s graying nature had dulled that gold to the sandy color she had now while her mother gave her splashes and rivulets and drips of white all across her.
She is on her guard when she crosses into the Commons, knowledge of what occurred here not deterring her. If a stallion wanted to claim her, they would be the first creature to show her any kind of interest in her near seven years of life. It was hardly going to be an easy feat to do more than insist on her attendance to their herd - but she did so wish that someone would at least make a go of it. Perhaps, in time, she could return to Salem’s Dunes to introduce her father to the Husband that had come to claim her.
It had been hard to ignore Mrgasira being married off, difficult not to envy when Aminah supposedly had been offered Husbands back in the motherland, hard to stomach when Al Hilal had taken his heart off his sleeve to try and ask his father to help him win his First Wife. She had become tired of being the one off in the corner that no one dared look at too long lest unresting the already unrested Sheik and Mira.
She looks from side to side, curled ears swiveling to prevent the sneaking up of a stranger.
OF THE LOST ISLAND WILDS
▻ 7 years - curly eared arabian mutt - graying buckskin tobiano - 15.2 hh ◅