Gabbar
stallion . arabian . bay . 14.3hh . 6
It is unnerving to be studied so intently by Valve, and Gabbar turns his head slightly away from her to avoid the temptation of pinning her with a similar gaze. It is difficult not to look at the sleek mare when she speaks, however, and Gabbar finds himself fascinated by the expression on her face and the subtle signs of her intent attention in the flex of her muscles. Akhal-Tekes, he thinks, are very like serpents in that their shimmering coats attract the eye, much like the scaled skin of snakes. Their unique slenderness adds to the easy comparison. He understands on some level why his people consider the ‘Tekes to be undesirable —it is a bit alarming, he must admit, to stand face to face with an individual who shares multiple attributes with a serpent— but he is aware of the beauty in the breed. It is unlike the Arabian aesthetic: different, but not necessarily inferior.
“It does,” he confirms for Valve as he shifts his visual attention to his distant territory. There is much happening on these Isles, he thinks. El Halin and Iftikhar have come to kill the Blind Seer. A seer named El Aran has threatened the flaxen chestnut mare he offered protection, and while such aggression is not uncommon between Arabians he is wary of what it might mean for him if the stranger comes to fulfill her threat. He has fought females before but never an Arabian, at least not with any intent to drive off or harm. The bay stallion sets the worry aside with a small toss of his head. Whatever comes will come, and there is little he can do about it until then. Valve beside him is searching for her own blind horse, and now there is knowledge of a stallion called Maslakhat who was once a part of her herd. And Gabbar is here to collect the two Arabian mares and send them home on behalf of Rakkas which, depending on each mare’s mood when and if he finds them, is knowledge that will either offend, amuse, or annoy Iftikhar and El Halin.
Gabbar sighs. He flicks his tail and glances over at the black mare. “If you should see him, I would appreciate any information he shares in regards to El Halin.” He nods toward the Desert. “There was a mare in that herd, a seer, who threatened the Arabian here. Apparently this seer, El Aran, was kicked out by her own son.” Gabbar’s ears flip back slightly as his chin tips toward his chest, and when he speaks again his deep voice is soft. “I find that interesting.” Perhaps later he will cross the border and see what sort of herd dynamic would allow a breeder to expel his own dam from the herd.
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