Gabbar
stallion . arabian . bay . 14.3hh . 6
Gabbar turns his head to survey the territory after Valve answers him. He wishes, suddenly, for everything to be over. This intrigue is bleak, and it weighs in his heart. Or perhaps he seeks to blame something other than his own inability to stand behind what he truly desires and to fight those who oppose him. It is easy to fight for his herd. Their cause is his cause, and as a soldier of the Arabians he has been raised to obey.
The mares do not like it when a breeder thinks for himself. They like it even less when breeders voice their own ideas and opinions about things, regardless of how useful or intelligent he is.
These Isles have claimed Gabbar’s heart in a way he never imagined any land could. He does not want to leave. He still has not decided how, or if and when, he will alert Iftikhar and the High Seer of his decision. He hopes, coward-like, that the matter will not come up at all and, when the mares are finished with their business here, they will simply return home and it will never be discussed. If they assume he will follow, by the time they realize he is not it will be too late to turn around to collect him— and he is not important enough to collect. This is part of the reason why he was chosen to travel here and find the mares.
He suspects, also, that Rakkas assumed he would not engage with any of the natives. So far, the bay stallion has discovered he prefers the company of the horses he has met here much more than the ones he grew up with.
He flicks an ear toward Valve. “In a way,” he replies. “Iftikhar found me. And she bade me wait here, until she returns with the High Seer.” He glances at Valve, and offers her a small, conspiratorially grin, certain that she will appreciate his quick thinking as he explains, “I did not tell her the message I have been sent to convey, for she was not with El Halin. I will speak to them at the same time or not at all. It is a wonder she did not force it out of me; Iftikhar is not a patient mare.”
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