I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.
She could smell him before she could see him. The musk of another male wafted into her nostrils in the passing breeze. The golden palomino mare had been drifting idly through the tall grasses of the Prairie, keeping a watchful eye on the young, loudly colored colt who stumbled awkwardly behind Ostara near the hills in the distance. Silently the mare was thankful her yearling son had a friend here. It had been far too quiet in the Prairie for too long. Since Valentine left them.
Nevertheless, Evaline was glad that she was here. Life had changed drastically in the wake of Valentine's departure. She had hoped that birthing a son for him would have changed things between them, that Paradiso could have smoothed the tension that erupted when she left to look for Shamwari. It didn't and now he was gone. Shamwari, however, was here, and was proving to be a more formidable leader than Evaline had initially predicted. She always knew that of all her children, Shamwari had star quality. Yes, she picked favorites, and thus far, her red-headed bastard son was it. But he had disappointed her so in other ways.
Luckily Paradiso and the filly were hidden among the reeds when the evening shadows near the forest's border caught her attention. She can barely make out the heaving silhouette of the intruder, but she knows he's there. She can smell the sea on him.
The mare's heart began to beat against the confines of her chest. This situation was eerily reminiscent of their brash introduction to Pagan some weeks ago. The mare snorts, both angry and half-heartedly impressed with the work of Shamwari. It seemed he was making a name for himself if he was, in fact, attracting angry stallions to his homeland at such a rate.
Evaline issued a shrill call, an ear-piercing whinny crackling across the Prairie to alert her son of the breach. She eyed the rolling flatlands of their home, which is awash in a warm orange glow signaling the end of the day, looking for the tips of the ears of the children in the distance, and waiting for confirmation that they understood the nature of the call. Stay put.
Only then did Evaline pick up a two-beat gait and move in the direction she last saw the foreign stallion. The sun is setting fast over her descent, and the shadows within the trees grow longer and darker. As she nears the treeline she halts, her blonde flowing tail held high off her rump as she calls again -- this time for Shamwari.
"This is your one chance to turn around." She spoke loudly to the wall of foilage in front of her, her wide chocolate eyes searching feverishly in the dimly lit trees for the frame of the stallion. "You won't like what happens next."
15 | Arabian cross |14.2 | Palomino | Mother of Kasabian, Shamwari, Vita Nova, Paradiso | Vinyl |