| SHENZI
like the flame in the sun |
|
Shenzi’s lips quirk in amusement at Corona’s appraisal of Maslakhat. He certainly was harder to read than most that the barb mare came across, but it was evident to her that the golden bay Teke possessed values that lined up with her own quite nicely. (Just how well they lined up was yet to be seen, but that was a matter for a time soon coming.) And as for the answer to Corona’s question? “Maslakhat is persistent. He didn’t give up on me, and I believe he’ll prove true to that in days to come.” With that, she fell silent, and listened intently as the fine-boned grey mare shared her story. Parts of it resonated with Shenzi, touching on not so much as shared history as shared experiences. Their upbringings couldn’t have been more different, really. “I don’t blame you,” Shenzi rumbled. “I would’ve run too.” And it was truthful enough. The barb mare would never have accepted such a lowly position, to be governed over by a fool and viewed as his to do with as he pleased. But first, the fierce brown mare would have put the brute in his place, and left him with a reminder to never think less of anyone (and to perhaps think a great deal less of himself) again. At Corona’s assertion that she’d stay a while to keep her company, another rumble rose in Shenzi’s chest, this time, one of laughter. “I owe you one, Corona,” the injured mare replied, shifting in the water and settling, watching the ripples carry across the surface of the pool. Her attention was drawn to the searing, rolling landscape of sand around them, nodding agreement to the Arab mare’s description. “Its where we belong Corona. Not just because we are built for this land, not just because we adapt to it and thrive.” Slowly, Shenzi guides her wandering focus back to her companion. “It’s not just about our bodies, and the heat of the sun in our very bones, back and back to our ancestors.” The barb feels her voice catch in her throat. “There is something in our souls that others could never understand…” (There had been so much loss that day, and it haunts her still. She is the last of her band, she is the last, and there are none like her. She is alone, and in the dark watches of the night, she aches with the magnitude of what it means for her.) Gratefully, she is spared from explaining the sudden sombreness that came over her by the sound of approach. Shenzi’s eyes dart towards the pair of figures that appear, and she relaxes out of the alert posture she’d adopted instinctively. Her eyes gleam in recognition, and she settles back into the pool. “Sidika,” she greets, not at all deterred by the healer’s brusqueness, and offers her own name in return. “Shenzi.” Her ember-brown eyes slant to the small shadow that lurks behind the palomino, but she says nothing else. At the question concerning the beast that caused her wounds, Shenzi nods. “A lone lioness, injured and desperate. She’s no longer a threat.” And she wonders if the pale gold Teke mare had ever tangled with such a creature, given the scars she carried upon her own hide. As Sidika enters at the edge of the pool and lingers there, Shenzi is quick to rise, wincing at the way her movement causes the open wounds to twinge with stabbing pain. The barb mare stands in place, water streaming off her dark hide, ready to follow any directions given her by the Teke. “Please, I would be grateful.” |