Orhan

"I hope nothing is wrong," Orhan murmured, staring off across the sands as though willing himself to see through them to the place where Carisa was hiding.

"Mm," Koray grunted from beside him, his head low and his mouth full of grass. The young, pale stallion was two years old now, and dwarfed his father by several inches, both in height and girth. In truth, he was more than old enough to leave home - and had Orhan had his way, he would have been gone now - but Carisa had managed to bargain for more time with her son, having promised them an upcoming addition to the family.

Carisa had disappeared several days ago, her huge belly swaying to and fro as she waddled across the dunes, and Orhan had not pursued her. Instead he had waited for her to return, his stomach giddy and his heart telling him that it was only a matter of time now. In fact, he was so excited for the birth of another of his children that he hardly thought it odd that Carisa had become so secretive - until now that is, several days later. He thought he had caught sight of her and a tawny-colored foal a few times, at the edge of the oasis, but she was like water, slipping effortlessly into every shadow and crevice, keeping away from the herd so well that Orhan had begun to wonder if he was simply imagining things.

"When she had you, it was only right over there, on that hill. I was with you when you took your first step."

"I know." Koray's voice was terse, but Orhan hardly noticed.

"I just don't understand why she would --"

"-- Dad, shut up. Look."

Orhan whipped his head around to look at his son with indignation, and saw that the young stallion's green eyes were looking past him. Before Orhan could follow his line of sight, however, he felt something small and warm collide into him. Instinctively he lurched to the side, bumping into Koray, and turned to face the thing head-on, his eyes wide and tail flagged. Sitting in the sand before him was a little filly with mismatched eyes that were swimming with tears, her expression an innocent mixture of surprise and hurt.

Orhan stared down at her with an open mouth. "Oh," he said softly. But for her extraordinary eyes, she might as well have been a miniature version of himself. Her fur was the color of buttermilk, like his. Only her long legs and a few subtle details of her build hinted at her maternal lineage.

Orhan's heart swelled, and he smiled. Just like that, all his fears were gone. He lowered his head to the foal's level and pricked his ears. "All you all right? Where is your mother, little one?"