[.Lionhearts and Misfits.] Posted on April 6, 2015 at 11:50:45 AM by Al-Sarim
al-sarim
They bear the faces of ancients and kings,
Their blood is tinged with gold of sand and eras past.
Pride runs deep within the bones and fibers,
And all that the desert sun kisses they call dominion.
In the eyes of the proud ones, turn your eyes down,
Be not Tek or Spaniard, or any other mix breed dog,
There is no welcome for you among the tribes Arabians.
Verses that humored the Arabians were not so widely publicized; one had to be careful where or to whom one recited such verses. It was a sterotype of an ancient race, whose blood was said to be as old as the desert itself. Who was Sarim to question when he himself was likewise an outsider to the desert tribes (born from them but not among them)? But there was more to the spirit of the barren wasteland than raw pride…he had come to understand this in the time of his enlightenment in a dream so many desert nights ago. Perhaps this dished-face lord needed a pilgrimage for meditation thought Sarim. The stallion was going to attack again, but Sarim made no movement in response. The dark hellion had no intention of fighting the beast in his own land…of course…there was a limit to his temperance.
But then the Arab’s attentions were swayed, as was Sarim’s to the appearance of another exquisite beauty. Indeed this was a woman and no mirage, and a glance upon her might supply his thirst for a month. He could only imagine what the sound of her voice or the feel of her skin might do to him. The sahib had not the time to dwell further on this as the stallion now addressed his humble request and offering (quite negatively might I add). Sarim received insult instead of introduction. “Your strength is nothing compared to mine…I’ll not have a mutt taking sustenance from my herd. Turn around and leave now.” This did not surprise the dark man, he was not new to this sort of treatment. He sneered and dropped his head mildly as if in disappointment, auds folded back sadly but he still smiled and spoke nonchalantly. “Is that so my little friend? Is it not the custom of your race to be charitable to those in need?” His frame was braced for any aggression that might follow, but it was a good show that while he was a good-humored fellow he was more noticeably a fearless fellow as well. The “mutt” was relying on more than just his own outsizing the other, but likewise on his witt. Sarim was leaning towards the notion that the Arab would not change his mind anytime soon.
“I am quite disappointed. But I shall take my leave for now. Barış. Tekrar buluşana kadar.” He was not at all perturbed by the other stallion’s stance in truth, Sarim could not call himself a stallion of the world if he could not handle where one’s front door was closed to him. But his words rang true, wishing the nameless lord peace until they should meet again. He wondered if they might meet as foes or friends. It had crossed the beast’s mind to challenge the other…but Sarim was not interested in a crown. Not yet.
Stallion|Anglo-Arabian x Andalusian x Akhal Teke|Seven Years|Dark Bay|16.2hh|Dark Brown Eyes
html by shiva : edited by frost
ooc: hi. ok i just am sucking at keeping up right now and i am sooo sorry. i am sensing a rivalry here lol, and i can't help but love it. Sarim thinks Gabbar needs to chill but otherwise is pretty cool. ^^ Replies: