<font face=times size=1 color=AE8365>FEARLESS ON MY BREATH</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.

FEARLESS ON MY BREATH
Posted on March 18, 2015 at 04:23:57 PM by orhan

☪
ORHAN

Orhan stood diagonally in the sand, his head thrust over his shoulder to watch the mare as she strode up the shallow incline to meet him. His expression was impassive, but his ears were pricked and his dark eyes bright as he regarded her. "It's quite all right," the stallion reassured her, his gaze flitting to take in her freckles and other details about her as she came closer. It was as the sunlight hit her full-force on the crest of the dune, creating a startling contrast of color across her body, that his eyes were finally drawn to the bold marking on her right side. His stomach tightened inexplicably at the sight, though he could not understand why. It was not so much that the mark offended him, or that he found it ugly; it was more that something about it tickled a memory buried deep in his mind, a memory that was not quite pleasant.

But what? Why do I know that mark?

He tore his gaze away, aware that he had been staring (though in truth only a second or two had elapsed), and began to lead the mare downhill at a brisk stroll. The oasis was not far, for - excepting those occasions when he patrolled the borders - Orhan rarely travelled out of earshot of his herd. Indeed, as he lifted his head to balance against the downward incline of the sand and opened his nostrils, he could already smell the tell-tale freshness of grass and trees.

"This place?" Orhan replied with surprise in his voice, throwing the mare a doubtful glance as they began to climb another hill. He could feel sweat cloying along his flanks and between his legs, and it was not from the heat. She speaks as if she has been here before, he mused. Perhaps that was why he knew her mark... or perhaps she simply meant that she had come here with a purpose. "Forgive me for asking, but why travel so far? Were there not other deserts you might have visited instead?"

'Why are you here?' was what he really wanted to ask, though he did not feel prepared to speak so bluntly just yet.

ARABIAN / AKHAL-TEKE / MUSTANG - 15�1 - EE Aa nCr - SIX - EL ARAN x ENCANTADOR - SHIVA

Replies:

�Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare.� - By el halin March 18, 2015 at 05:27:07 PM
- FEARLESS ON MY BREATH - By orhan March 23, 2015 at 03:51:11 PM
  - �Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare.� - By el halin April 1, 2015 at 01:01:40 AM
    - FEARLESS ON MY BREATH - By orhan April 2, 2015 at 03:18:03 PM
      - �Beware she who suckles from the Walking Mare.� - By el halin April 4, 2015 at 07:31:29 PM
        
        [x] - By Orhan April 4, 2015 at 10:35:15 PM

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