Gabbar
stallion . arabian . bay . 14.3hh . 6
The days have been busy. It is a welcome relief to the bay soldier, for he is tired of his own company and suddenly, almost overnight, he’s had the pleasure of meeting a variety of new horses— some within the borders of his own home. Today he’s making his rounds at a quick pace, eager to return to the main oasis and his herd before he’s been gone long enough to even be missed.
Summer is in full swing on Salem and the sun is relentless in its heat. The sky, as usual, is clear of all cloud cover and he trots beneath the wide blue expanse without discomfort. He creates his own wind through movement. It keeps him relatively cool even as sweat starts to patch his dark coat. He descends the side of one dune with his hindquarters bunched beneath him and steps out to resume his trot as soon as the ground levels beneath him, simultaneously sighting the black mare. Had this not been the second time he saw a black horse and immediately thought Valve, Gabbar might have expressed more shock to see the slender Akhal-Teke in his sands. He knows from the mare’s carriage that he will never mistake another horse for her again.
The collected stillness with which she stands, and has always stood, is unique to Valve. Gabbar has never witnessed another horse so self-contained— only, perhaps, the mud-covered mare from the Meadow, but even her demeanor lacks the sinewy competence of the sleek mare from the sands. “Valve,” he greets her calmly despite the insistent thud in his chest as he comes to a stop directly in front of her. Admiration, he tells himself savagely, and thrusts all thoughts to the back of his mind to focus only on the now.
“The winds have returned you,” he says. Her arrival fills him with something akin to foreboding. He knows where her beliefs lie, and Gabbar no longer upholds the Purebred ideal. His herd consists, in fact, of himself and a mare of mixed bloodlines. Still, he cannot say he is not glad to see her again. Iftikhar and El Halin cease to be a threat in his mind. Gabbar has no qualms about allying with a horse outside his own breed, and the misplaced pride of the Arabians will be their undoing should they come traipsing into his home with any intent to remove him from it. They will underestimate Valve and the rebellious breeder. He grins. “It is good to see you again, Yılan Kum.”
He’s different from when they last spoke. More expressive, he knows, now that he’s making his own way in the world and not simply following the orders and opinions of mares he’s been raised to treat as his superiors. The bay stallion wonders how Valve has changed, if at all.
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