I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.
She was beginning to feel rather woozy. Sweat pimpled the mare's soft pink skin around her nose and under her eyes. It was a struggle even for her nostrils to flare and take in as much hot and dry air as she could with each passing breathe. So she stopped, halted for a moment from her weary wanderings to survey this dreadful place she now called home. Maybe it was because she was beginning to feel light headed, but the mare marveled how the landscape looked so much like the sea. The orange hills of sand rose and fell like the current of the ocean. It spanned for miles to the horizon, the orange sand standing in stark and strict contrast to the bright blue of the summer sky overhead.
Gabbar moved almost silently through the slipping sands, the ground too soft for his three-beat gait to echo against the earth. So when he arrives, Evaline is startled, but too tired to react in such a way. The mare raises her petite and dished cranium high over her withers and stares him down from behind dark brown eyes. She assumed her sweat-ridden appearance was enough for him to decipher that she needed to find a cooler place to rest, and fast. So when he agrees to lead her to such, the palomino mare merely bobs her head but once, and moves at a slow and uneven walk along the trail his nimble feet left behind in the sand.
They strolled along for what felt like forever before a healthy green patch of low lying land appeared in the distance. Evaline let out a long, wheezing sigh, her voice horse and irritated from her constant gasps and the amount of sand she'd clearly ingested. The mare immediately picked up her pace in an effort to reach the shade faster. Once they arrived, she continued until her hooves reached the bank of a cool pool of water, and she walked into it eagerly, until the level of liquid reached her chest. There she stood until she drank her fill. Only then did she look back for Gabbar, her soaken blonde tail floating gently to the surface. "Thank you." She said, as droplets of her drink dropped slowly from her whiskered lips.
15 | Arabian cross |14.2 | Palomino | Mother of Kasabian, Shamwari, Vita Nova, Paradiso | Vinyl |