<font color=#e4e0d7><i>�Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare.�</i></font>

Your King Asmodeus
Your Queen ~~Nyimara~~
The Second None
The Herd Name, Name, Name		The Sub-Herd Name, Name, Name
Allies Name (Land)		Enemies Solomon (Cove)
The Rules There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue. We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc. The King and Queen have final say in all matters.

�Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare.�
Posted on January 21, 2015 at 00:10:35 AM by el halin

El Halin

Sun and sand. The promise of water in the distance. Drawing dry air through her nose and expelling it as she runs: these things all speak of home to El Halin, and she is happy as she runs across the Desert. Sweat gathers along her withers and hips due to the heat but the High Seer does not mind. While it takes more effort than she recalls to pull herself over the uneven sands, the exertion is worth it. She focuses on the stretch of her muscles and the satisfying rhythm of her hoofbeats as they fall on the downbeat of the war chant she still hums.

For a time, that is all.

Her peaceful solitude comes to an end as she spies a dark shape on a gentle rise in the distance. Though the scent of water is closer and her throat feels parched for the first time in many months, El Halin diverts her course to approach the figure and sees it is a horse reclining in the sand. She slows to a trot as she notes the hang of the horse�s head: the individual appears to be sleeping. The High Seer comes to a complete stop as her front hooves touch the slight incline that leads to the sleeping horse and she cranes her neck toward him with a soft whicker.

The breeder is a very pale buckskin, almost a cream color instead of the vibrant golden-wheat she has observed on these Isles and on the Akhal-Tekes from her home. He has no other distinctive characteristics except for the silver at the base of his mane and tail. El Halin draws her dished head back and arches her neck. Her tail is flagged and she stands with her front hooves close together, well aware of how striking the pose is. She wonders what rank this breeder is, to be so far from the herd she can smell on the wind and without any evidence of watchfulness on his part. He is either worth much to this herd or very little, and as soon as the thought crosses her mind El Halin must remind herself that things are done differently on these Isles.

�Merhaba,� she says in a soft voice, not wishing to startle him as full consciousness returns if he was, in fact, soundly asleep. �L�tfen, is there water ahead that I may drink?� It is a strange thing, asking permission, but El Halin is not put off by it. She can play the part she needs to in order to join this herd (if this breeder is even a part of it, as she assumes), and she will do so for as long as it is necessary to stay in this Desert.

mare // arabian // fleabitten gray // fourteen.three hh // seven // uforia

�Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare�

Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:

Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post: