He has lost his luster, he feels, ever since that Devil Woman had caught his brother’s eye and wilder spirit. None of them had noted his absence as significant till he returned with a woman who was painted like obsidian and sand and salt. Indira had gotten him too well, a preplanned spar with another horse had been tanked because of the lack of propriety. It had led to an argument between them - and a vague, but honest, apology from the eldest of his brothers.
It was a curse, to be sure, to be so commonly talented with fighting that you were prone to losing practice matches over the lack of motivations. Indira had showed him this weakness and then her well aimed blow had left him ill fit for the practice match that should have boosted his spirits - and instead hobbled them further.
He bristles that his twin had sent him to fetch Antares away from the dangers of these foreigner women that spoke to Antares’ wilder side - but he is inclined to venture out. Why not, after all, go on a bit of a jaunt, ey? Why should Antares be the only to find a woman to share a passion with… and in such a way too! Brawling amidst a rainstorm until the rain is all that keeps a foam off your hide--- and then, even with loss, oh such an ending.
He was brutish by comparison to his three other brothers and he knew it. He was able to place a direct hit on a target with ease, could all but pirouette in battle, could dodge in and out of the fray with ease-- but give him a gentle creature to speak to, to befriend, to court and he was an utter Bull in the China Shop. His metaphorical hands were not made to hold the soft ones of a woman… though, watching the charging mare that nearly rips a challenge cry from his throat, he may not be a complete loss to his ancestors. If there were such women, such women even among the People…
He picks his feet up and thrusts into a canter, seeing only the silver side of the mare until he hears Antares offer his lines about their mutual marking and he moves so that he comes in beside his elder brother on the side that shows a beautiful bay visage unbleached by Ra’s kiss. “Brother, I cannot leave you for a moment - and yet I do not regret it, finding even more of The People in this Set ridden place.” His voice is deep, rumbling like distant thunder in his throat and chest. He snorts, stamping a hind hoof and gritting his teeth a little as Antares turns with an uncomfortably pleased-with-himself grin on his rosy face.
“La. La yumkinuk 'an tueti ma lays lika,” he growls, flattening his ears. “'Ant taerif ma 'ufkir fih ean al'arwah alnnaeimat,” Antares shakes himself at that, but the action only follows down to the withers before he stomps. The stomp seems to curb Atair’s natural defiance at least well enough that there is no fight - but it is clear that he had enough gumption to look past the lily-petal stallion to the mares.
“Sekhmet’s own cubs would not be safer than your Mistress would be with him. The body of a mare is to be held sacred as Hathor’s own Gateway and cherished Isis’s own Daughter. My brother was raised to revere such a thing properly and with much skill. He would never have hurt your Lady… but I will promise keep distant. I am not known to be as… Well, I was never thought to be a proficient in the same skills.” With that, he looks at the glorious mare hidden behind her friend, a stoic mask falling into place just as she might have caught an appreciating glisten cross his eyes. He could not afford the risk she would incur on his foolishness. He turns instead to Sakhmet. “'iidha kunt turid salamat sadiqik , fas'aqum bi'iiqran quti bikul sirurin.”
Perhaps she felt invincible, would scoff at his offer, but Antares saw it for the meaningful thing it was and looked to Eness, though he had yet to learn that name of her. “If you wish to feel sand beneath your hooves again, I would gladly accept you into my charge and bring you to meet my First Wife. She has yearned for company...” Silently, the black brother could hear the part that ANtares had left unspoken. ‘And later, perhaps my brother will come properly to his senses’.
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