Gabbar
stallion . arabian . bay . 14.3hh . 6
He wakes again with a start, only this time he is certain he’s heard the scuff of hooves on sand and holds himself quite still, listening, every muscle in his body held tight until he’s convinced himself the heat must be affecting his mind. This territory has contained no one but himself for months; there was nothing to hear. This thought allows him to relax and resettle his weight against the warm sand. As his eyes flutter close for the umpteenth time in an hour, he hears it again.
Gabbar’s eyes fly open but he remains still, waiting. Yes. There is definitely someone approaching his oasis. He can’t see anything from his current position despite how much he rolls his eyes, which leaves him no choice but to get up and confront whoever it is before they can strike him while he’s down. The bay soldier responds to this thought immediately and unconsciously: he hefts himself up to his belly and tucks his legs to boost himself back to all fours and stands ready as his eyes land on the intruder.
Slender, shining, gold with black accents and not Valve but just as sinuous and spectacular as every other Akhal-Teke Gabbar has ever laid eyes on. The beauty of those in the desert was marred irrevocably by the personalities and attitudes of the horses contained within those shimmering coats, but here? On these Isles, Gabbar is drawn inexplicably to the splendor of the lithe, agile breed, both males and females alike. Of course none will compare to Valve, but he must set the obsidian mare out of his mind. It is unbecoming that she still invades his thoughts on such a regular basis.
This mental rush is over in an instant and Gabbar steps forward, head up and tail flagged, eyes on the stranger and his posture proclaiming authority as he skirts the edge of the pool to bring himself within striking distance of the other. A mare. He snorts, lightly. “I’ll need your name and your purpose before you drink,” his voice rumbles into the still air and he feels more sweat break out on his coat. This is not the day for a confrontation. It’s far too hot to fight, though he will fight if he must, and he thinks this is evident from his loose but ready stance.
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