Gabbar
stallion . arabian . bay . 14.3hh . 6
The look Evaline slings down her nose at him reminds him of the imperious stares delivered daily by the mares of the desert. This is the first time he notes the dish in her face, and his ears twitch in surprise. Shamwari’s own build hadn’t given the bay soldier an impression of desert-bred heritage, yet his mother wears the distinct mark of the Arabian. It is a thought he tucks away as he turns to lead the exhausted mare toward the oasis. Her coat is patched with more sweat than his own, and he can tell the sand has been an irritant to her. The water will help and, hopefully, within a short enough amount of time Evaline will acclimate to her new home.
They reach the oasis in good time, and Gabbar lags behind as the palomino hurries to the water. He chuckles to himself to see her wade so deeply into the water. He has denied himself that relief before but it is satisfying to see Evaline making herself comfortable in the wide pool. While she drinks he approaches the bank and then submerges his hocks before lowering his head to take in a few large mouthfuls himself. He’s lifted his head and stepped out of the pool by the time Evaline looks back and thanks him, and Gabbar offers her a shallow nod in return as he moves to stand under the shade.
“This is our primary resource,” he says as he shakes himself out before lowering his body to the hard earth. “But there is river in the west that leads to the ocean and also suffices in a pinch. If you’d like, tomorrow night once the heat has cooled I can take you to the nearest bend so you can start getting a feel for the lay of this land. Or we can go exploring elsewhere, if you’d like.” He exhales a soft sigh as he relaxes. “But we should travel together. It will give me great peace of mind to be with you until you are more familiar with what life is like in such an uncompromising climate. Unless of course you’ve lived in lands like these before?” Gabbar asks, his dark gaze lingering on her concave muzzle.
|