Let there be fire. - " />
The Lost Islands
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Let there be fire.
Posted on July 26, 2012 at 07:38:26 AM by BADR

Beschea

So they say the wicked do not sleep. Perhaps this was because it was alleged that their heads should be so full of shame and hate, disgust and guilt, that they should never be able to sleep. Ah, but
Badr does sleep; only during the day, with his dark body hiding away under the scraggly sage bushes that were littered about the larger oasis. It had seemed that lately, he had been forced to venture out during the brunt of the hot days because of the heightened activity in the dunes- that people were silly or brain-dead enough to go out while the sun still smiled upon them, instead of waiting for the cool and gentle smile of the moon to befall their heads.

Today, he sleeps. Sprawled lazily amidst the grasses and far enough from the water to be immune to the glare, he had found a perfect little haven amongst his paradise- a shady spot where the sun could not touch him, and the only sound he heard was the soft cry of the buzzards in the distance, no doubt picking their fill of a desert dog or large mammal that had wandered out into the heat.

Ah, the silence…

Broken by the shrill voice of a seemingly mad woman. Badr had forgotten to educate the newest arrivals in the dunes of the law of the desert; that all things sleep during the days of fire, and wake during the nights when there are rains that cannot be missed. As he stirs from his sleep, the flaxen maned stallion is pleased to find that he is still bone dry and not stinking of salt and sweat. His hiding place had done him well in keeping him from expiring under the heat, so he imagines the mare has yet to find something so similar, and thus she was wandering.

Clambering to the edge of his little cove, the stallion stands tall and stretches, immediately spotting the mare on the near the edge of the water, staring almost longingly out into the desert and, he assumed, her untimely death. Now, that was not something that Badr was entirely interested in seeing happen so soon- not when she had slept all night and seen only the angry side of the desert. He also assumes that it has been some days since he has spotted the moody mare, and perhaps the solitude and silence has softened her (only slightly, of course) to the idea of his presence, so he goes to her. Not too close mind you, hostilities were always expected when dealing with a so-called prisoner. “Do you not wonder where all the animals are?” He says to her across the small space he left between them. Not so far as to shout, and not so close as to whisper.

“They sleep during the day.” Badr says rather matter of factly. “The night offers a much more hospitable environment.” The observation was not one that should be lost on the mare. Certainly the nights were much more amiable than the days, with the moon smiling down on them, the air would grow chilly, happily offset by the hot sands that warmed them from the bottom up; a sweet contrast between hot and cold. Even with the nights came the occasional rainfall, something never to be seen during the days. There had also been the alluring sight of stars across the wide open sky, and with small fireflies dancing through the large oasis, only visible from the ridge edge of the water. While the stallion was a desert rat through and through, he had found beauty in the nights next to the hot days.

badr
The unmoral vigilante.
stallion. flaxen liver chestnut. unknown crossbreed.
ee aa ff. fifteen & three hands. eight years. russell.
html & character by Russell
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ooc: do you mind if i end our other thread? we can pretend that badr, metaphorically, threw up his hands in frustration and walked away once he brought vesti to the large oasis and this is a couple days later :)

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