[al DEH bur rahn]
✮ Caria, Guinevere ✮
▻ Ain (x Caria), Falak (x Guinevere) ◅
Had he been taking tips from his two year old niece? Yes he had. Had it steered him wrong? Not one bit. He had not brought it up, not even when his heart fluttered if she so much as glanced in his direction. He was notorious for flirting with whomever he believed was beautiful so long as there was no Husband to irritate or offend with his interest. Big bold star on his head, wild Rabicano, singed black across his topline… he was not an ugly brute in the least. Perhaps not as bright or boldly colored as some - but he’d been told his personality colored him enough to blind some folk.
Caria, though, had not been ready for such bold loudness and at first she had shied away from him any time he was close enough to call out her name. Nashira had taught him the benefit of a longer game, of gentle flirtations that did not scrape the raw nerves of the wounded hearted. She had been instrumental in leading Caria to be sleeping amidst his Oasis - a galaxy in gold painted across her so similarly to Rigel that she very well could have been---
No. No she couldn’t be. She was his, not precisely, not formally wedded, but as well as. His own household was abnormal even amongst the other brothers who still somewhat clung to their casual belief in their upbringing. He did not marry - not in that very formal way that his brothers did. No one mare was above the others, all of them equal in his eyes for their own merits.
Ayyüce had been technically the first, although their maturation of affection had been slow and had yet to bear fruit in the carnal things that usually came swiftly in his brother’s households. He had not been careful of her, though, not in the way it was slow to woo Caria with her injured spirit. She and he simply had not looked for one another in the season. He loved her for her beauty, her dedication, the subtle way her history as handmaiden still kept an edge out of her wildness and a compliance to him that was unique.
Guinevere had been a faster matter, although after Caria - he supposed anyone would feel like a swift conquest. She had been amongst the Sadim beneath Antares’ care until this season when she’d made an advance and had been answered favorably by her chosen brother. He did not know what sort of fit she would find amongst the family but he thought that she was fair and amenable, if a bit flighty in confidence.
Caria by comparison to the two others had been instantly like gold to the eye of a marauder. Her golden form along the reddish sands had been striking, startling, beautiful and awe inspiring. Where Guinevere had picked him, thus finding her place in his heart - Caria had paid him no mind and still there had been a throne set in his heart for her. Beauty, delicateness, gentility, and a bit of a sad note to her that made him want to race the wind and teach her the joys of drinking it in so that one might feel almost as high as the clouds that appeared on her coat.
When he approaches her this night - it is with the tools he has learned to cherish as a bridge to this apple of his eye. He is quiet but not silent. He slings his head low enough to scuff his velvet muzzle onto the sand. He reaches his knees in front of where she lays, settling with immense control and no plop as he once had done. "I hope that you are not uncomfortable." He had known he’d been successful when he’d smell the heat fading and it made him more worried that she’d find tiresome the weight she’d chosen to carry in the name of their bond. "If you are the least bit uncomfortable, I will find a medicine woman to give you some relief."
OF SALEM’S EASTERN DUNES
▻ eight years - arabian - sooty bay rabicano - 15.2 hh ◅