With a sideways glance, he can see the surprise flicker across her face at his sacrilege and then quickly evaporate into something else, like rainwater into steam. Her retort was in step with his own rebellious cadence and he snorted his approval at her quip. “Perhaps they should,” he finished as she went on to introduce herself as Corona and affirm her great pleasure for the land before them.
Maslakhat met her sweeping gaze once more, another smile tugging at the corner of his lips for her appreciation. Yes, the Dunes were magnificent indeed, and the golden bay Akhal-Teke’s chest swelled with pride as he lifted his head and pointed his nose north, toward the imposing hills of sand that lay before them across the oasis.
The sand had settled in the water now, and the dampness from the recent rain was growing sparse under the bright glow of the sun above him. His amber eyes flicked back to her as she tempted him with what he would have considered a stupid question had he not understood the manner of her coyness, and in a singular explosive motion he lifted his narrow yet muscular frame from the water, sending skyward a myriad of droplets glittering like diamonds as his coat gleamed magnificently.
Within a stride or two he was at a full gallop, the answer to her question self-evident. He ran well. With every step, he navigated the changing texture of the sands beneath him with expert ease. He imagined she would pursue him readily, no doubt eager to prove her own skill with respect to speed and to feel the thrill of the wind in her mane, as he did. To run across the sands was a language all their own, a common tongue not only spoken by their ancestors, but perfected by them.
MASLAKHAT
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