[The Scimitar of the Ancients] Posted on March 10, 2015 at 11:35:08 AM by Al-Sarim
al-sarim
Of course it did not take long before the sahib was approached. The sillouhette of a night saturated Arabian made his presence known, proud as one of his breeding should be perhaps if not more. The stranger was likely a lead or a close second by the looks of it, and he sized Sarim up in his approach and did not let the apparent height difference hinder him in the least bit. The voice that escaped his lips in a tongue that was shaped and evolved by desert tribes of old…it was a beautiful language though the other brute’s words were perhaps not so lyrical in meaning. A single word with all the authority of a leader spoke volumes to the black-bay dubbed Al-Sarim. He beamed, one might presume he did not comprehend the other stallion’s meaning thought the irritable lead’s body language did much to imply and translate. He motioned to speak but was…distracted as yet another Arabian approached, this one a warm, caramel brown beauty with frost markings on her slender body. Thorns pricked with added interest at the lady, who remained a safe distance enough to watch the spectacle of her lead possibly, and himself who was but a stranger here.
Sarim’s dark orbs motioned back to the somewhat aggressively poised stallion, still retaining that casual smile as he now replied, “Selamun aleyküm.” His accent was fairly good, he hoped the other could comprehend his dialect. Still he showed no indication of returning the other’s aggression, but he showed little signs of backing down either. “I am Al-Sarim. Can you not offer a wayward traveler some food and drink, and perhaps a place to rest before you send him on his way? I would be glad to offer my strength as payment for four days and five nights.” The virile bowed upon the introduction and waited to see now how the stranger would react to this greeting. Sarim spoke as one who knew the customs of desert folk, and so he did just as he was well aware the stallion (possibly the mare as well) did not take much to strangers…particularly those who were not of their lineage. This did not bother the hellion in the least bit. He himself was descended from a desert nomadic tribe, but he was not born among them. This encounter made things all the more interesting he thought as he stole a glance towards the mare who remained watching before focusing again on the nameless lead.
Stallion | Anglo-Arabian x Andalusian x Akhal Teke | Seven Years | Dark Bay | 16.2hh | Dark Brown Eyes