If anything that matched Kahraman’s cunning, it was his patience, but even it had its limits. Content with the knowledge that his charge was safe in the Dunes, the lean, wraithlike stallion took his leave of her. He would return some day, appear out of the surf with the coming of a new dawn, but for now, but for now, there were matters he had to attend to elsewhere…
For weeks he had been lying low in on the Crossing, making polite conversation here and there, picking up on the state of things, gathering scraps of information, hoarding knowledge with a hunger that would never be truly satisfied. It never failed to surprise him just how much could be gleaned by being quiet. In a sense, Kahraman was a kind apart, and there were few that he’d met in which he sensed this otherness. Naz, without a doubt, but despite everything that bound them together, Kahraman could only tolerate her presence for so long. They had been forged in the same fire, after all, and whenever they stood in one another’s shadows, the Teke stallion could feel himself burning.
The Lagoon had fallen silent, and only recently had Kahraman detected new scents along its borders. He’d timed his trips to the fringes of the patch of land most everyone knew to avoid, so that rain would wash away any traces of him, or at the very least muddle his presence there. It wouldn’t be any fun for Cullen to happen upon him before he was ready, after all.
In the night, Kahraman had left Cullen a message. Traipsed the boundary that bordered on the Commons, and back again. He certainly wouldn’t be making the same mistake of entering as recklessly as he had last time (even though, back then, he had been unknown to Cullen, and unproven – a threat). Though not half so vain as his father had been, the cremello male was rather reticent to put his remaining ear at risk. (Though, if Cullen could read all that was buried in the deep darkness within him, Kahraman rather fancied the golden brute would sink teeth into his flesh again without hesitation.)
He settled in the meadow, the very same place where Cullen had found him, rag-eared and beaten all that time ago. Much had changed since then. But some things never would. Even in repose, Kahraman was alert. Long ago had he mastered the art of masquerading, and the façade of nonchalance he wore always. There was but one soul on these islands he truly knew him, and even though they cared for one another, in her secret wisdom, there was an unspoken understanding between them – an acknowledgement that at his core Kahraman was a wild and savage soul, and he would always be a threat.
Even towards the rare individual for whom he expressed concern, affection, or dare it be said; love.
“It’s been some time,” he said by way of greeting, speaking into the morning mist. He shifted, and a genuine smile turned up the corners of his lips as he turned towards the figure emerging into view, the fog wisping from his shoulders like an ethereal shroud. “Forgive my reticence to meet you in your dominion,” the Teke murmured with a dip of his chin. “But given how my last trespass was taken,” the smile turned wry, to show he still bore no ill-will for the injury he’d sustained in retaliation, “I thought this for the best.”
A pause, and Kahraman regarded his companion with blue eyes flickering with concern. “There was chaos in the Forest, and following that, I was pulled away from the islands for a time.” It was not an excuse, Kahraman didn’t makes excuses. There was nothing to be excused, at least not from where he was standing. He’d made good on what he’d said he’d do. And he was here now. "I’ve heard that the Lagoon hasn’t been spared of hardships as of late,” the Teke said softly. “How have you fared?” he asked casually, glancing aside a moment to ensure no other early morning wanderers would encroach upon their conversation. With a lopsided grin and a tilt of his head, Kahraman’s attention slid back to Cullen. “Tell me, is there anything I can do?”
Now, Kahraman didn't expect to waltz back into Cullen's good graces, but it went without saying - there was a certain understanding that Kahraman had gleaned of the Lagoon Boss's character, last time they'd met, and he'd seen it more clearly that terrible and exhilarating night in the Forest. There was a shrewdness in the palomino male, and perhaps his cunning took a different form, but there was a basic truth that Kahraman was counting on. They were alike, he believed, in that they were not above using others for their own means. And the Teke had nothing better to do, or so it seemed.
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