Meadow

Sakhmet had learned to distrust at an early age, unlike Eness. So, when the mare tries to quiet her with her gentle touch, it is set ablaze again by her complimenting words to the stallion. Muscles that were coiled tight do not relax despite the onyx mare’s kissers that had set afire her flesh briefly. Instead, she snaps her tail from one flank to the other in her distaste of this situation. Added with a few lashing paws to the ground. His silken words do nothing to appease her, and neither does the approach of the midnight colored man, speckled with the reflection of the stars.


“Both of you can slither back to where you came from, althaeabin” Sakhmet said, her voice just as sharp as her greeting. But with two of them to face down now, her heart began to hammer in her chest, anxiety curling in her stomach. The grey woman would not back down, her eyes unwavering in their intense stare, but Sakhmet was far from thinking herself invincible. It was only her lack of trust that made her think everything was a lie. If what they spoke of was true, it would seem like a dream come true, to be looked on favorably for her mark instead of with disgust. And the protection that the stallion offered for her friend, her beloved, would help settle Sakhmet’s worries if only slightly. To have a home in the sands, instead of this foreign place filled with gluttonous grass. But dreams were not real, and she would not be the fool that fell for the sweetened words of a stallion.


“Why should we believe anything either of you have told us?” she challenged, taking a brave step forward. “Why would you ever pair your strength with mine?” Sakhmet had only felt the wraith of other’s strengths, and the concept seemed utterly outlandish to the mare.


((althaeabin: snakes))