Orhan

When the Akhal-Teke mare denied that they had ever stood on anything other than solid footing, Orhan felt himself taken aback and, strangely, somewhat troubled. He reasoned that her words may have been meant to reassure him, but he could not help but remember that terrible day four years ago.

Four years - had it really been that long? Good god, he thought. He had not known who to believe that day, and so he had thrown everyone, Valve included, out of his home in grief and rage. When he did not see her again, he had assumed that whatever weak relationship they had held was broken forever.

He wondered if perhaps she did not remember, then dismissed the idea. Of course she remembered. How could any of them forget what had happened? He knew the minute gory details of that scene still lurked in the shadows of his mind, just waiting to be uncovered. Did Valve simply understand that he had spoken in anger that day? Had she managed not to take his words to heart? Had she brushed away the idea that there was ever a question mark over her own innocence with regards to El Aran's death?

Orhan opened his mouth and considered admitting that he had secretly held a grudge against Valve and her brother all this time. Simply the fact that he had found them standing over his mother's dead body was enough to forever tarnish his associations of them. But he closed his mouth again; he did not think either he or Valve had anything to gain from such a conversation.

He blew out of his nostrils and threw a brief, thoughtful glance at the retreating storm clouds at Valve's back. "I have no qualms with that, per se," he began cautiously, "but can I ask what kind of information you mean? Have you particular concerns, other than El Halin's return?"