The Arabian mare’s interest in Rigel was overt. She looked upon him as though her eyes befell a celebrity—one’s whose stories were known across the sands. Truthfully when the foursome came upon these dunes and beseeched him for shelter, he could not have cared less where they came from. He only cared that they uphold the standards he expected of them, and thus far, he had no reason to believe they wouldn’t continue as such. Her intrigue with respect to Rigel and his brothers’ past however, created a feeling of something like curiosity within the far reaches of Maslakhat’s mind. They had done well to attract several others of their hot-blooded kin to this land, but those who were known were often loved and hated alike. What then, of their enemies.

He blinked these thoughts further into the recesses of his mind as the cream-colored stallion of similar stature spoke. Tarkan was a fine name for a fine stallion, and he dipped his head in appropriate and customary greeting, glad that he could share company with another of his own. There was value in their alike heritage, and sensing no ill will in his manner, he could make an ally of this newcomer yet.

Maslakhat returned his gaze to Rigel as he deferred which he returned with another nod of affirmation. “It is permitted.”

Shifting his dark eyes back to the other Akhal-Teke, he continued. “I do not know such a mare.” He replied with respect to his inquiry. “Come,” the bay stallion said again after a brief pause, orienting his slender frame so that his nose pointed inward, into the depths of the dunes. “The main oasis is not far. We would be happy to show you there so that you both may rest and continue your pursuits come morning.”


MASLAKHAT

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