For a moment it seemed that Orhan could not, or would not, speak. As the pair of Akhal-Tekes turned to make their way back to the Dunes, he finally managed a single word. Wait.

Valve turned, peering over her shoulder with her ears pricked, curious about what the half-breed son of El Aran had to say. He was interested in A’idah, of all things, a fact that was peculiar to the black mare. He obviously knew her too—something she found strange. The Arabian was perplexing… keeping company with a stallion like Orhan, yet choosing to reside in the neighboring territory with Gabbar. Valve decided in that moment that she needed to know why.

“Yes,” Valve replied simply, and although she hadn’t yet had words with the other mare yet, she figured that stretching the truth here would only serve to set her up as someone that the stallion could trust—something that perhaps Maslakhat hadn’t done, given Orhan’s next remark. Her eyes darted to him, inviting him to try and talk his way out of the situation.

Maslakhat just grinned, entirely unfazed by Orhan’s bitter tone.

“And what sort of behavior do you refer to? If I recall, it was El Aran who greeted me with nothing but misplaced hatred,” he reminded the other stallion. “You have been privy to the only history her and I share, Orhan.”

“You do not have to trust me,” he continued. “But it seems to me that she’s seen the error of her ways and wants to make amends. Why else would she choose me to deliver you a message?”

Maslakhat flicked his dark tail back and forth, letting this information sink in. As far as the Akhal-Teke was concerned, he was doing Orhan a favor by giving him an opportunity to avoid the bloodbath he knew was to come. And of course there was the added bonus of keeping him out of the way. But even if Orhan did not fall for his trick, Maslakhat had absolutely no problem crossing hooves and teeth with him in order to keep their ultimate goal a possibility.

It was his choice to make.

VALVE & MASLAKHAT