“she smells like lemongrass and sleep
she tastes like apple juice and peach”

Sabran was not the adventurous sibling. Born in the midst of an island-wide war, she had not been allowed to stray from her mother’s side as a child – and whenever she did, it was only to hide wherever she was instructed until Persephone returned. Now she was older, and Luthien was at peace, her mother did not keep her under lock and key, but to Sabran, the world remained a pretty scary and intimidating place.

So when she heard the approach of another, and caught sight of Arkana sneaking home through the trees, Sabran was curious. She watched her sister, fascinated by the possibilities of where she might have been and what she might have been doing, her feet creeping forward almost unconsciously, until the snap of a twig beneath her hoof distracted her and announced her presence.

She met Arkana’s slightly startled gaze, and offered a playful grin in return as the other filly realised that she was not her mother. Sabran brushed past the rough bark of the tree beside her and approached her companion. She offered to bump her nose against Arkana’s, before pulling back and studying her sister’s face.

“Arkana,” she greeted softly, still aware that an adult, particularly Evren, might stumble upon them with something to say about this late arrival. “Where have you been?”

SABRAN
mixed ☽ bay varnish roan ☾ 14.3hh