The other mare is right beside her, throwing her head back and shaking out her wild tangled mane in defiance of the wind that tries to whip them back into another race. "Aferin!" she agrees as the other mare calms. Ak Burun’s heart is still racing; she wants to whip herself down the far side of the dune and feel the sand tremble into tiny avalanches under her beating hooves. She stays where she is and look out across the land with avarice, soaking in all the glittering piles of gold she gets to call home.
"This land is a treasure," she states, and glances side-long at the other mare with a grin. Valve. Such a name! Whatever could it mean? "I am Ak Burun. White Nose, after my white nose." The redundancy charms her as it always does, and she throws her head up and laughs. Turning in a tight circle, she drinks up the view a second time. The sand extends for miles, humping toward the horizon in some places and flattening gradually toward others. The ocean, great big salty noise-maker, is far far away. Still visible, but quiet. Ak Burun prefers it that way. It looks like a giant sheet of glass from their vantage point, and she tucks her chin with her ears forward to admire its distant glittering.
Her gaze doesn’t move from the mesmerizing water, but her attention does shift to the sleek black mare beside her. "How many others are here?" she asks. "Any stallions?" She tucks her chin a bit more and flicks her tail as she considers how delicious that would be. A stallion, close to home, all for her whenever she wanted... That was the dream. He’d have to be pretty, though. She turns her head to quirk an eyebrow at her companion. "Please tell me there’s at least one stallion. I’d prefer more, but if I have to go collect them for us I will." With a wicked grin she flags her tail suggestively. "It shouldn’t be too hard to draw them in, this time of year." |