Vesti’s reply was diplomatic, and Orhan wondered briefly if there was a reason for that. There were a few moments of quiet, in which there was only the sound of rain on water, and he blinked against a few droplets that threatened to drip into his eyes. Then the chestnut mare posed her question. Orhan was a private horse, so his instinct was to shy away from the question, to change the subject or avoid a definitive answer somehow. Yet there was still that small seed of longing within him – the longing to form a bond with Vesti – that pushed him into smiling sheepishly and replying honestly.
“To survive in the cold, you need warm bonds. You have to cluster together and share body heat. Snow brings horses together.” He averted his eyes briefly, staring down at his hooves and becoming lost in memories that were still fresh and vivid. “You can run for sheer joy of running without worry of overheating yourself. If you become thirsty, you need only bend over and take a bite of it. If you become hungry, you need only dig. You don’t have to make plans according to the time of day. You don’t have to map your travels according to where the closest oasis is. You can just be.”
He looked up at Vesti from beneath the wet black hair plastered against his forehead, and his expression was strained. He had suddenly become aware of how much it probably sounded like he was trashing his own home, so he decided to slightly alter the course of the conversation. “Do you think you’ll ever brave the ocean again, Vesti?”
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