When his full name left the tall mare’s lips, his smile brightened. He had never had the heart to correct Carisa when she had taken to calling him Or instead of Orhan, but it seemed she had, at some point, picked up the second syllable. Good for her. I wonder if she’s been speaking with the others.
After they had exchanged breaths, the stallion settled into a relaxed stance with the tip of one rear hoof cocked against the ground. At her comment regarding the shifting of the sands, a low chuckle rumbled from his throat. “That they do. In this place, you can’t rely on the shape of the land to find your way. That’s a good way to get lost. You have to learn to read the sun and stars, and to keep your eyes peeled for things that stay in place: like plants and rocks.”
Orhan paused, aware that he had possibly been talking too quickly for Carisa to keep up. More carefully, he added, “I could show you some time, show you how to read the desert so you don’t get lost. Maybe you could come with me on my next patrol.” His smile, when it came again, was gentler. Strangely, he felt guilty that he had not thought to do such a thing before. Carisa deserved to feel safe and familiar with her home.
“But anyway, what’s new with you? Have you made any friends yet? Seen any interesting things on your walks?”
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