| enough
& more | |
| The sun is risen and strong overhead by the time Shararat returns from the beach. She has made it a habit to venture to the shores of the territory with some regularity, usually to the same stretch of sand that by now has been well-marked with her passage. She does her due diligence for the herd —and herself— by taking alternate routes. It affords her the opportunity to explore more of the territory and satisfies the unshakeable instinct to cover her tracks. The impulse is passed down from her dam, and surely unnecessary here, but Shararat follows it all the same. She will not bear the responsibility of mayhem upon her shoulders for carelessly leading wolves directly to their door.
The Dunes, though, seem to be blessed with peace. Shararat takes great solace in that. It is refreshing to live in a land where the most exciting thing to happen is... nothing at all, really. There’ve been some new faces (to her) and she’s met a couple existing members of the herd, but that has been the height of the excitement. Shararat prefers it this way. No scheming, no conniving, no subtle or blatant manipulation— just a band of horses existing peacefully together. She huffs a sigh as she trots into the oasis, content and warmed up for whatever the rest of the day holds for her. Her eyes drift across the herd sheltered under the shady trees, seeking the bold pattern of Bahadir’s coat, as she steps up to the edge of the water to drink. It has been some time since they’ve spoken and she is still mightily curious about his gods. Nekharat’s visit, too, has roused her interest. Shararat would know more about the desert-bred stallion who defends these Dunes, to better defend his character should the need arise again. Thirst slaked, Shararat lifts her head and moves round the edge of the oasis, her stomach fluttering a bit as she remembers flirting with him in the moonlight. Daylight marks everything differently, she thinks, but he is still as handsome under the light of the Iç as he was that night under Uzay. "Bahadir," the black mare greets him quietly as she glides to a halt under the shade, her dark eyes moving slowly across his fine features. She has not spent much time at all in the company of stallions, at least not any who were eligible as intimate partners. She is drawn to Bahadir not only because he is handsome and holds himself with confidence, but also because his sex is so foreign to her. There is also no red mare hovering over her shoulder to forbid her this interaction. Shararat tucks her chin, arching her neck as she regards him with frank curiosity. "I wonder if you might tell me more about this Bast you spoke of. And, forgive me, the other you referenced. Kho...su?" | |
S H A R A R A T | |