asha & zakhar
The dappled mare’s first impression of this silver stranger was that she was a nervous little thing, like songbird in winter. Then the stranger’s nerves melted away into something else entirely: something like shame, or depression. Dogun’s name, when it left her tongue, was dropped like an embarrassing secret. Asha tilted her head, a faint crease appearing on the skin between her eyes. She was no stranger of abuse, and this mare showed all the classic signs.
The question was, who was her abuser? It couldn’t be Dogun, could it? Or was he her savior, as he was mine?
She decided not to press the issue, knowing that would likely only make matters worse. Forcing a gentle smile onto her lips, the big mare relaxed her stance so that she appeared as non-threatening as possible. “I’m new here too,” she said in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. “My name is Asha. And this –” she turned her head to motion to the colt beside her, but before she could continue, he had stepped forward and taken over the conversation.
“I’m Zakhar!” he said brightly, a grin shining on his dark face. “You shouldn’t be so sad. It’s not that bad here. Plus, you look like me! Except for your mane.” He frowned, eyeing the stranger’s pale forelock like it was a spanner someone had thrown in the works.
“Zakhar,” Asha hissed in a low voice, flattening her ears and shooting him a look.
dapple grey blanket & 5 & draft mix & 17’2
blue roan & 3 months & mutt & 15’2 wfg |