“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Why can’t Mama hear anything?”

Today was one of those rare days when Koray was not stuck to his mother’s side like glue or off playing with the other foals, and Orhan was taking advantage of it. Father and son stood side-by-side in the sparse shade of a palm tree, enjoying a breeze that sent ripples across the surface of the oasis. Having trailed his son most of the afternoon to be sure that he was not causing any trouble - after having discovered him torturing a sickly lizard by kicking it about with his hooves - Orhan had finally managed to tire the six-month-old and convinced him to calmly keep him company “like a nice young man”. The catch, after some bargaining, was that Koray could ask him as many questions as he liked.

This silly deal he was beginning to regret, for Koray was proving insatiably full of questions.

Orhan’s eyes were drifting closed as he heaved a sigh and considered how to answer his son’s difficult question. “I don’t know. I guess she was just born that way.”

Koray, in his defense, was more skilled than most adults at handling his mother’s disability - Orhan supposed this was because he had known nothing else. For instance, the colt never forgot to make sure to touch the mare or move himself into Carisa’s field of view if he wanted her attention, and he would diligently alert her if something happened that she could not hear or if someone spoke to her. Up until now, Koray had simply accepted the fact that his mother was deaf; but it seemed now that he was old enough to begin questioning the way things were.

“Why?”

Orhan tilted his head and looked down into his son’s sea green eyes. Koray would be a heartbreaker when he got older, the stallion mused. “It just happens sometimes. Some horses are born different. Like you, with your sunset-red hair.” He leaned over and lipped playfully at Koray’s stiff, short mane, and the colt wriggled his head away with a plaintive “Dad!”

The stallion resumed his drowsy stance, hoping Koray would be satisfied by that answer, but it seemed the colt had other ideas. “Where did I come from, Dad?”

Oh, gods, Orhan cringed inwardly, and glanced out across the sands to where Carisa stood not far away. Help, he called out with his eyes, willing the tall blanketed mare to look up and see him. “Why don’t you ask your mother?” he suggested to his son.