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

Sabran, as always, wasn’t quite sure how to react to her sister’s laughter. She settled on a playful scowl that only half-disguised her embarrassment. She accepted Arkana’s touch more gladly, leaning into it, but was glad of the conversation moving on then. It was much easier to talk on a fantasy, to Sabran at least, about Arkana’s mystery man.

She laughed at her sister’s joke.

“Oh, I’m sure he won’t be able to resist the temptation of you,” she retorted playfully, her words only half sarcastic.

They both became quickly quiet then, following their initial amusement. They both had questions about their mothers, which often remained unspoken – pushed to the back of the mind, insignificant to them in many ways, and yet insistently intriguing in an abstract, nebulous way.

She considered Arkana’s words.

Spinsterhood was not quite the right term. Sabran had never known or seen her mother to have a romantic relationship with a stallion, or even mention one. There was her father, of course, but even with him she had always appeared no more than companionable, never passionate – she had never stumbled upon them sharing an intimate moment, or been embarrassed by a public show of affection.

Her mother and Evren (who was as good as her third parent), however, were different. They were not particularly demonstrative around the children, but they were affectionate, close of course, and there were even times when she felt a kind off palpable tension or connection between them. It was unspoken, never outwardly confirmed – at least not to the children – yet never denied or dispelled either.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Sabran replied quietly, her voice breathy.

She had found her thoughts and emotions muddled in this area whenever she considered it. The thought of what might be neither repulsed nor excited her – perhaps because it had been such an ever-present on in her childhood – it merely left her a little confused and uncertain. Her mother was her mother, and Evren was Evren, but she couldn’t deny that these two important figures in her life were cloaked in a fine sheen of mystery to her still. Perhaps she would understand better when she was older, she had always thought, and yet it continued to niggle at her mind.

“I feel it too… Sometimes I wonder if I should ask – mention it at least – but… I don’t know. I don’t want to make things weird – or weirder.”

She gave a half-hearted, uncertain laugh.

SABRAN
mixed ☽ bay varnish roan ☾ 14.3hh