There was something about the black mare that unsettled him. He stood near Avangeline and averted his gaze, letting the two mares speak and hoping that he would not have to be so involved. He was truly ashamed of himself in every respect. He hated that he had involved Avangeline in his personal affairs, even if spending time with her was truly the last time he remembered feeling happy.

His heart beat loudly in his chest and he felt the burning gaze of the black mare upon him, judging him the way Iç did from the surface of the sun. Any moment, he expected teeth or some other sort of punishment to reign forth upon him for all his failings. When Valve addressed him, the weighty feeling in his stomach only grew heavier.

Lifting his head, he did his best to answer her question with as much composure as he could muster, while another golden mare approached and settled in beside Valve. Her ear was half mangled and it was obvious she carried some Arabian bloodlines, though not entirely. Her confident tone as she spoke to Valve unsettled Al-Hattaal even more—what was a mixed blood mare doing with such a formidable companion? Were they both feared warriors that had joined together against his own kind? He snorted loudly, needing to release his anxiety somehow. No wonder Gabbar had left.

“We are originally from the same desert,” he did his best to explain. “Iftikhar selected me as a consort, though only temporarily.” Pausing a moment to attempt at keeping his composure, he continued. “I have sired her a child—likely a filly—and Avangeline has been kind enough to help me find her.”

A L - H A T T A A L
Zaman sana uymazsa sen zamana uy.