Posted on September 29, 2012 at 01:08:45 AM by BADR
 He had learned long ago that once the act of copulation had been competed, it was best to avoid women for fear of their wrath, and this is what made his presence something of a rarity in the main oasises that populated the dunes. He had not, in fact, made much of an effort to check up on certain mares in their pregnancies, mainly for fear of being guilted or attacked out of sheer spite or anger. Instead, Badr had lounged about the edges of the desert, lingering father than usual and only returning inwards when thirst threatened him.
As the sun began to fall and the sandy sea began to make it’s shift from day to night, the blonde stallion started wandering inland, moving towards the closest oasis and not at all surprised that it had already been occupied. Spotting the mare with the bloated sides grazing near the edge of the watering hole, Badr stoops his head and approaches the water, breathing softly across it’s surface before drinking heavily. Eyes always on Vesti, the sand king shifts his weight as he lifts his head again, this time greeting her with a short call, to draw attention from across the water- leaving the pool between the two of them and offering him ample time to flee if she should decide to attack him out of malice. There was no doubt that the sorrel mare was pregnant, her distended sides and tired appearance screamed her condition, also hinting that she would soon drop the foal and then perhaps force Badr into even further hiding. Having always preferred to pretend that he was a bachelor instead of a family man, the stallion found that he avoided children, even if common manners elected that it was unwise to ignore the mother of your child. Ah, but his mother had never really taught him manners. Instead of approaching her, he shifts his weight again, flicking his flaxen tail across his sweat-darkened haunches, and watches her from his little perch on the other side of the watering hole. Even in the slowly waning sunlight, the heat from the sand under his feet seemed to emanate a wave of warmth that should have been discomforting, but instead was reassuring and familiar. “How are you, Vesti?” He does not have to yell, as sound travels well across water and sand. Now he just stands and stares, ready to flee, just in case. badr The misguided jailbird. stallion. flaxen liver chestnut. unknown crossbreed. ee aa ff. fifteen & three hands. eight years. russell. |
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Replies:
- I'm Chimeras with a C - By Chimeras September 29, 2012 at 06:48:31 PM
- Just Some Old Flotsam and Jetsam - By Vesti October 7, 2012 at 05:48:42 AM
- Let there be fire. - By BADR October 9, 2012 at 06:29:10 PM
- What if life were something meaningful? - By Chimeras October 15, 2012 at 04:01:50 AM
- x. - By badr October 30, 2012 at 03:24:58 AM
- What if life were something meaningful? - By Chimeras October 15, 2012 at 04:01:50 AM
- Let there be fire. - By BADR October 9, 2012 at 06:29:10 PM
- Just Some Old Flotsam and Jetsam - By Vesti October 7, 2012 at 05:48:42 AM
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