I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.
Evaline's inability to remember the layout of the Crossing reminded her of what drove her here in the first place. She was escaping the Dunes, if only for a few hours, today. She was running away from an embarrassing and terse interaction with Gabbar's only other herd inhabitant, a smart and capable buckskin mare named Avangeline. Evaline had treated her harshly, during their short exchange on the beach. She hadn't felt bad about it until she was halfway through her swim from Salem to the Crossing. Avangeline was young, eager to be of use and friendly. She was the only opportunity Evaline had to make a friend in the Dunes, and perhaps against her better judgment, Evaline had snubbed it out before a friendship ever had a chance to flourish. That wasn't unlike the palomino mare -- she'd never gotten along with others of her same sex. But she could use some friends now more than ever, now that she was at a time in her life when she couldn't depend on her family.
Maybe that's why Evaline is more willing to open up with the big draft breed mare standing in front her here. It feels a little like the misplaced kindness Evaline should have reserved from Avangeline. But it's too late for that. This dark mare is standing in front of her here, asking her to tag along in a polite and welcoming way, not all unlike how Avangeline had approached her just hours before. This time Evaline chooses to accept a mare's offer with kindness. She nickers eagerly and bobs her head when Inka' lowers her own. "I'm Evaline." she says coolly. "Why not. I think I last heard the Falls out this way." She said and took a few short steps toward the East end of the open pasture.
Evaline allows her gaze to settle on Inka as they stroll. She looks somewhat familiar to her, though Evaline has never been to the Peak. "So what's the Peak like anyways?" She asks innocently with a genuine curiosity. She alway assumed it was full of disgruntled mares that were too ugly to land a stallion. "I've never understood it."
The palomino mare halts briefly as the rumbling sounds of water become a distant droll behind a small thicket ahead of them. She listens intently for a minute and then looks to Inka to see if she hears it too, then smiles.
"You know, you look so familiar to me. Are you sure we haven't met before?"
17 | Arabian cross |14.2 | Palomino | Mother of Kasabian, Shamwari, Vita Nova, Paradiso | Vinyl |