The desert had been quiet for some time now. Without the tension that accompanied his mother’s presence, he might have even called it peaceful. A couple travellers had come calling recently, but they had proved to be of no danger to him or his meager herd. And what’s more, there had been no sign of that cursed serpent.
Nonetheless, Orhan’s head and heart had been at war with each other. His nights of late had been sleepless, filled with disturbing dreams of El Aran that made him wake sweating and shaking, and during the day he was distant, his eyes perpetually staring into space as he tried and failed repeatedly to come to a conclusion regarding whether or not he was ready to become a father.
Thinking of Kazga did not help either.
Then one cool morning, as dawn broke in delicate peaches and pinks over the Eastern horizon, Orhan woke and knew he could delay no longer. The season was upon them, and he needed to make a decision.
Adrenaline kept his usual morning grogginess at bay as he searched the oasis for the tell-tale red silhouette of Vesti. Once he had located her, he began his approach. His heart was in his mouth as he drew closer, arcing around the foliage-choked banks with as much composure as he could manage. “Vesti,” he said gently, and reached out to touch her with his nose, to rouse her in case she still slumbered. His eyes looked her over, and suddenly to him she seemed too real, too close. Her scent and heat were almost dizzying. His face felt hot.
The boy inside him fought to turn away and run. The stallion in him resisted.
He pressed in closer, running his nose along the arch of her neck, then lingering to exhale on her skin, before pulling away to meet her gaze. “I want to try.” His lips pressed together softly in the ghost of a smile.
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