Orhan

The rain had fallen for weeks, as was customary in the desert's wet winter season. The banks of the oasis were swollen, not unlike the bellies of one or two mares in the herd, and the greenery was thicker than ever and speckled with multicolored blooms. Orhan had become used to the constant background noise of the deluge; he had learned to more or less tune it out, and relied on it for white noise while he slept.

One night, however, it stopped, and the startling stillness tickled Orhan's eardrums until he woke, blinking blearly in the starlight and searching for whatever had disturbed his rest. There was nothing, of course: nothing but the quiet oasis reflecting the night sky above; nothing but insects whirring softly in the grass; nothing but horses grouped loosely together in slumber, their breath rising in soft, cloudy pillars. And there was no rain.

The buckskin stallion shivered; it was colder than usual tonight, without the insulation of thick rain clouds to cocoon them. But at least the sky was beautiful, as it tends to be when one has not seen it for several weeks. Orhan spent a good few minutes with his chin tilted toward the heavens, observing the swirls and dapples and pinpricks of light scattered across the enigmatic backdrop of darkness. It was the perfect night, he reflected, for sharing warmth with someone special.

With that, he decided to find Arcana.

They had enjoyed a brief honeymoon period after her arrival in the desert, but lately she had seemed more distant - there, but not there at the same time - and tonight she was nowhere to be seen at all. Deep down, this troubled him; Orhan wanted nothing more than for the mare who made his heart race to form a close bond with the rest of the herd, and for them all to live happily ever after. Tonight, however, his reasons for seeking her out were superficial. The desire for her presence was as strong as any hunger or thirst.

The thick shelter of foliage that clung to the oasis was the most obvious place to look first, and sure enough, Orhan found her there on the far side of the watering hole, huddled in the shadows by herself. Her relaxed stance suggested that she was sleeping, so he approached quietly and from the rear, not wanting to disturb her. His gaze dropped to the soft swell of her belly, and there it lingered. Her obvious pregnancy was no shock to him; he had suspected it for some time, but had said nothing, preferring to wait until Arcana chose to broach the topic herself.

Once he was close, the stallion gently pressed his cool nose against the white of her neck, and pivoted his hindquarters until they stood parallel to each other, their sides just touching. He took a moment to let her scent fill his head, then lifted his chin and rested it atop her withers, blissfully unaware that she had been crying.