Shararat is delighted —and so pleasantly surprised— by the other mare’s quick wit, and she laughs warmly in response. "I must confess to a deep love of the sea; forgive me for mistaking you for one of its treasures," she says, smiling. Before returning to the Isles the Arabian had been too long in the company of vindictive personalities. Were it not for Ak Burun she may very well have gone mad and joined them all in their violent conquests, if only to attempt to get their petty wars to cease. It is a relief to see such a familiarly slender face accompanied by none of the poisoned barbs she is used to.
"I am awaiting the return of an old friend. But if you have not seen her—" and here Shararat lifts her eyes to survey the surrounding dunes, from valleys to peaks, to see if her svelte shadow stands sentry nearby, until her gaze returns to the chestnut with a wry smile and a shake of her head. "Then she is not yet returned, for I know she would not have been able to resist your acquaintance."
Then her delicate ears flip forward curiously. While Ak Burun had not been following this mare, neither had the handsome Bahadir. She would have made note of this mare among the herd immediately, and joined her from the first, but Shararat does not recognize her beyond her severe ‘Teke lineage. "And you, where are you headed?" |