The golden bay Akhal-Teke galloped over the dunes, enjoying every moment of cutting through the wind and displacing the sand beneath his feet with each lengthy stride. There was something uniquely invigorating about doing precisely what one was meant to do—and for a desert horse, it was running over the endless expanse before him as fast and as far as he desired. He was known more for endurance than speed, always keying in on the proper pace that would get him wherever he wished. Maslakhat had no doubt that if he desired to run to the end of the earth, he would not tire before he arrived.
Corona was swift as well, and she caught up to him with little effort, digging in and edging ahead with her dark nose pointed forward. She egged him on and he smirked, having kept a steady rhythm to his gait, he had plenty left in the tank if she wanted to test him. He let her pass him for long enough to revel in the sweetness of leading for a time, but before she could get more than a length ahead, he pressed himself for more speed. His slender black legs were a blur of motion as he sprinted ahead, his dark tail streaming out behind him as his ears fastened tightly to his head.
The straightaway between the two towering dunes between which they ran ensured he would have the lead for the time before they opened up once again into more subtle hills, and Maslakhat took this moment to toss his head with delight.
Steering toward a smaller cluster of palms that lingered near the beach, he drew up his gallop at last until he and Corona stood side by side once again. His sides heaving from the effort he looked out over the ocean that sparkled impossibly blue and green under the departing storm clouds and he reared up, striking out one leg with authority.
“Well done, Corona,” he commended as he returned all four legs to the sand.
MASLAKHAT
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