His amber eyes met Sayyida’s however briefly as the two mares departed the sanctity of the oasis, and in this moment he noticed only Ak Burun’s ears offer a quick backward and forward flick—not quite an acknowledgement of his long shadow falling over them, but something like a fleeting indication that she knew he was there, watching vigilantly. The white-nosed Akhal-Teke was much too observant to have missed him entirely, and he snorted from a distance as the duo dipped out of sight, traveling in the opposite direction from where he stood.

So, she was purposefully ignoring him.

Maslakhat found this less insulting and more amusing; Ak Burun giving the impression she did not want to be interrupted made him consider the possibility of doing exactly that. As a large cloud floated overhead and the sun sank deeper toward the horizon, he decided he would benefit best from giving the two mares their space for a time. He slowly descended from his post, casually ambling in the direction they’d headed, keeping low to the flat valleys that separated the rolling hills of sand, taking his time walking the longer path. At last, he ascended another tall dune, only to come upon a break in the two mares conversation—their voices carried across the sands.

“Well, Sayyida,” he commented, looking to the Arabian first. “I trust Ak Burun has shown you enough of this land that you might decide it’s worth it to remain.”

He turned to look upon the white-nosed Akhal-Teke now, purposefully keeping his cool, unblinking gaze lingering a beat or two longer than was necessary, peering into her dark eyes before returning his attention again, to Sayyida.

“The choice is entirely yours, of course,” he finished.


MASLAKHAT

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