The golden pair nodded in unison, a silent expression of their thanks to the stallion as he assured them they would not once again be cast from what they felt was their (now) rightful home. They were, however, not entirely put at ease as Maslakhat spoke, each of them feeling a prickle of wariness as he made mention of loyalty. The mare in particular felt a bitter taste roll in her throat and her eyes grew narrow in her examination of the red-gold stallion.

Their home kingdom, although vast and complex in its own manner, had been remarkably simple – live and let live, die and let die. Although there were tribal war games and feuds, it was rare that any true rivalry lasted for much longer than a season or two; the necessity of allies and their benefits were essential to survival in the vast, blistering desert they had once called home. When the drought and subsequent famine struck, there were of course some who felt that their small allocation of territory (if it held any sustenance that is) should be theirs and theirs alone, but for the most part, the great, roving tribes had banded together in an attempt to forge through as a whole. Alas, perhaps if they had fought each other as well as fate, they would have come out on top.

“This is the second time we have heard mention of this mysterious Valve; is it true then, that they are the new master of this land?” With her eyes still sharp upon his, the mare queried the stallion carefully, hoping to ascertain more than a simple yes or no by the manner of his reply.

In turn, the masculine counterpart of the two responded to the latter half of Maslakhat’s commentary, as was the pair’s usual manner of taking up where the other left off. “We were not aware that the Dunes were at war; who are the enemies that you speak of, erkek kardeş?”

---

sekhet & sutekh
mare. akhal-teke. buckskin. fifteen-three. seven.
stallion. akhal-teke. buckskin. sixteen-zero. six.
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