I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.
The palomino mare wasn't surprised to see each horse shy away from her after her less-than-welcoming greeting. She assumed they were all intelligent enough to understand her need to be so blunt and pressing about their intentions. Evaline had lived among the isles long enough to know never to trust a stranger who encroaches upon your home. The last one she encountered personally was Psychedelic, and he stole her away to the Lagoon. Evaline didn't need Valve's guidance to teach her to be skeptical of strangers. Life had taught her that. Her most recent ordeal in the Lagoon cemented it in her brain. And Evaline was old enough not to care so much for the pleasantries and politeness this collective group seeemingly expected from her. They were not guests of the Dunes. In order to be guests, they must be invited. Nevertheless, they weren't enemies neither. They hung somewhere in the middle, their place yet to be determined. Luckily for them, that wasn't Evaline's decision to make. It was Valve's.
Evaline was content just to listen and observe now. Her chocolate-colored eyes drift to the delicate, flighty mare of the group as Valve grants her permission to stay. Evaline bobs her head in her direction, mostly in a friendly way, and perhaps even the shortest of smirks crosses her pink lips in a strained effort to seem somewhat welcoming. "Perhaps later I can show you around, Priya." Evaline adds after Valve, staring curiously at her. The offer is of course, two-fold. Evaline's interest isn't necessarily to be friendly with her, but to learn more about where she's been and why she ended up here. "I'm Evaline, by the way."
The golden mare flicks her long, wavy tail over her hocks and sighs deeply, growing bored of standing under the sun in the warm sand. Qadir's story is as lame as she had anticipated it to be. Evaline had no room in her for nostalgia, nor sympathy for those who were stuck dreaming of the past. But she kept her lips sealed, even if her overall demeanor appeared to be bored and unenthused. But silently she wonders just how long these two heavy horses would last in their harsh, dry climate if they did indeed wish to stay.
17 | Arabian cross |14.2 | Palomino | Mother of Kasabian, Shamwari, Vita Nova, Paradiso, Ruxin & Talya | Vinyl |