The Hills. The land neighbored the Desert, and the way Quinta spoke led El Aran to believe that her father no longer ruled there. Or perhaps her brother had been run out, and that was why she was seeking him. It was not uncommon in these lands for a stallion to refuse his offspring the chance to overtake the herd, so far as she was aware. Nor had it been uncommon in the desert.
She raised her head and noted the girl’s apparent uncertainty. "If you roll, you will cool faster," she suggested. "The water is not too deep, here." She strode forward a few paces, splashing with each high step of her rough hooves, and came to stop where the water deepened to her knees. It would probably not be much deeper beyond where she stood, but for the blind girl’s sake El Aran went no further.
Her loud splashing had disguised Encantador’s approach, and his sudden appearance startled a snort from her. She stared at the dunskin stallion reproachfully, more upset that she had been caught so unawares than out of any real anger at the lead stallion. "Encantador," she greeted him. Noting where his eyes lay, she shifted her own gaze to Quinta as well. "This is Quinta. She came from the Hills."
Aşk's eighth eye
♥ Uforia
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