Planting her chipped hooves in the dry sand that swirled about their hocks, El Aran pinned her ears and stared back at the chestnut mare. "How did you learn my name?" she snapped. First Soraya, and now this mare whom El Aran could not recall having ever spoken to. The black mare did recall that this mare had been one of the grief-stricken ones who mourned Razvan while tension skyrocketed between Encantador and Debonaire, but El Aran herself had been in the heat of the moment and did not remember much else. One thing she was certain of, however, was that she had not spoken at all during that confrontation. She had been Encantador’s silent support.
With a snort, the desert mare turned and continued walking toward the main oasis. It loomed large in the near distance: she could make out the detail of the individual leaves on the trees and the rippling water. "The unwary rarely spot a predator before it is upon them," she said, and her voice was cold as she lectured her companion. She glanced back at the colt as Alexa introduced him and gave another light snort in response before looking forward again. "Who are you? I saw you before, when Razvan died, but we have never exchanged words." Accusation laced her tone.
Worse was the knowledge that lingered at the back of her mind, that this instance, too, would be brushed aside by Encantador. Tossing her head, El Aran stepped into the oasis and positioned herself under the shade of a tree where she watched Alexa and waited for an explanation.
Aşk's eighth eye
♥ Uforia
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