Gabbar
stallion . arabian . bay . 14.3hh . 6
While it has taken some time for Gabbar to get used to his self-appointed role as lead stallion of the Dunes, he has finally begun to believe in the rightness of his decision. Now, with Evaline under his protection and the exuberant Avangeline currently beside him, Gabbar has no doubts that he is right to lead a herd. It is a good day for a patrol even though the sun is high and heats the sand beneath them. The bay Arabian treks with a seemingly inexhaustible energy as he considers his good fortune. The loss of Nereid was a blow to his pride, yes, but it had been a brief pressure on his confidence. He did not know the mare well enough to have a true attachment to her, only to what he believed her presence could do for him. He will do better by Evaline and Avangeline. This is his promise to himself, and to his herd. The loyalty he feels to these two already astounds him: it is so different from the subservient respect he felt back home. This? This is empowering.
Gabbar’s newly validated confidence shows in his bearing. He walks across the crest of the tallest dune on the western border with a high head and a flagged tail, his features relaxed, suffused with happiness. When he tilts his head to address the leggy buckskin mare beside him, his dark eyes remain on the horizon, so comfortable is he in his place in the Dunes. “Beyond these hills is the Desert,” he says. “I’ve been there once, and in all the years I’ve lived here only one horse has traversed this border— a yearling, blown in by a sandstorm. It is not as necessary to patrol this end of the territory, though obviously we should check it consistently in case that should change.”
It is ironic, he thinks, that while he has given Avangeline purpose, in doing so he has given himself purpose again as well. Her arrival in the Dunes was fortuitous and the bay stallion is eager for her to meet Evaline. He is optimistic that the two mares will like one another— how could they not? Avangeline is so open and expressive and genuine, and Evaline steadfast and sure enough of her own individuality that he is certain the two will take to one another quickly. Each mare has an engaging personality, something about who they are that draws one in immediately— he thinks back to his first encounter with Evaline in the Prairie and a smile ghosts over his face. She is certainly formidable, he thinks.
Gabbar pauses with his hooves sunk deep in the hot sand. “Over there,” he says with a flick of his nose toward the opposite end of the territory, even though the eastern border is invisible from this distance. “In the east, is a smaller oasis. We’ll swing back and collect Evaline before we head that way, move as a herd. There,” he continues, shifting to look northeast, “Is the edge of the land that receives the most attention. It faces the Crossing and is where most horses arrive. That is what I want patrolled twice daily. It’s close enough to the main oasis that this shouldn’t be a problem— but you understand, also, why it is so critical, then, that we monitor all who arrive here.” He turns his head to hold Avangeline’s gaze for a moment, to ensure she understands, before he breaks eye contact and looks again out over their territory. “You and I can take that in shifts. Once at the start of the day, and once at the close. It’s not a bad idea to check it in the dead of night, either, when the heat has finally cooled.”
He shakes out his mane and lets his eyes close for a moment as he basks in the sun. This is what home was always meant to feel like, he thinks, and smiles. “So,” he says, turning again to regard the Akhal-Teke gleaming like gold beside him. “What do you think? of your duties as sentry, of all of this?” Gabbar cannot keep the hope from his face. It is so important to him that Avangeline likes it, and that she is happy with her place here.
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