I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.
Evaline stood at the shoreline of the Dunes, the fine, burnt-orange sand fading into a lighter, more beach-like color and pebble-like consistency as she moved toward the waves. This was the first time the palomino mare had returned to the shore since she'd arrived in the Dunes with Gabbar some weeks ago. The relentless heat had driven her into the confines of the oasis, perhaps the most central point in Gabbar's territory, and there she had stayed.
The mare had spent a lot of time with the arabian stallion since her arrival. His company was fine, she mused, but the mare had remained quiet around him thus far. That was unusual for Evaline, who usually had no issue sharing her thoughts and feelings with anyone who would listen. She was happy to bark out orders to other herd inhabitants and genuinely enjoyed keeping a herd in active and good form. But this didn't feel like her herd. Even more out of character for her was her subdued nature around Gabbar. She hardly tried to impress or woo him at all, nevermind bother get to know him. Evaline merely existed here. She was not herself.
She didn't think her son could disappoint her as much as he had when he disappeared to the mainlands, his descent basically ending whatever relationship she had with Valentine. But she was wrong. Her heart broke all over again when he gave her away to a stranger and kept the rest of their kin back in the Prairie with him. She dreamed wild and sad dreams about her sons, Shamwari and Paradiso. She wondered and worried more often about her only daughter's fate now more than ever. It was as if she'd left her life behind on the shores of the Prairie. Evaline couldn't muster the strength to start over again. Not at this age. And not here.
The golden mare sauntered gently into the oncoming waves, enjoying the cool sensation of the seawater on her legs and underbelly. She moved into the surf until the breaking crest would lap over her chest. And there she stood, staring out into nothing, listening only to the wind and the waves and nothing else.
17 | Arabian cross |14.2 | Palomino | Mother of Kasabian, Shamwari, Vita Nova, Paradiso | Vinyl |