Atair
[ ah ty EER ]
✬ eness ✬
▻ al hilal ♂ & al murzim ♂ ◅
He stumbles and makes a mess of himself and his equilibrium as he attempts to posture against a moving, although not moving, target. Some might say it is stupid, might mock his lack of logic in his situation - but posturing was a whole fourth of a horse’s repertoire if he wasn’t truly intending harm. He does not land the irritated bite, he doesn’t try to fight her with words-- and frankly even if he had had them, a familiar voice cries out in outrage in his defense and it nearly spills his butt straight into the sand to sit when he sees her, smells, her, feels the warmth of her so near to his body. Curse… your wicked tongue.
The intelligence starts returning to his eyes like a seeping of water soaking into paper; Eness always had made him a better man overall. The mare had not attacked, had spurred him on without coddling and while he could not guess if it were on purpose, it’d made him rise to his feet instead of baking on the freshwater bank of the oasis near the sea. He regards her for the first time with a keen eye, but is immediately dragged to distraction at the proximity of his Wife. "Welcome Home, Husband." The words slide like velvet down his hide, though he is well aware that it will soon be a scalding wash of acid replacing her greeting. He had been gone for too long. There was no chance of a peaceful reunion. He owed her much.
Her teeth in his mane, near to his ears, almost soothes him too much - the world tipping as if his brain were warning him not to rest too assured. He offers a wordless nicker deep in his chest, "I have come for the punishment I am due, but not for the moment." It was as much as he could say about not unmanning him just yet as he turns to the mare who had woke him at the most imperative moment of his fading. "As touching as this little reunion is…" and that was all that she need say for the keenness of his eyes on her to become ‘knowing’ as well. It was her.
She was the one who ruled here.
He does not interrupt her moment, though, well aware of their current placement in the circumstances now. He might have been a proud man and a warrior - but he was raised better than interrupting a monarch when barely even a guest in their lands. "Now tell me again… why is it you both have washed up on my shores uninvited? Let’s start with your names. We can see where we go from there." Atair does not position himself in front of Eness because she was unable, for he was likely less able than she was, but because having recognized the ruler - he would prefer to be in any line of fire that might come down on their heads. He owed her at least that much effort, after all.
"I am Atair, a former warrior for the Dunes when it was the home of my eldest brother. The four of us lived here with our families until some … difficulties arose on an excursion to our homelands. I do not think any of us believed the Dunes to be waiting - nor do I think any of us intend to cause you any more headache than I and my Wife have already by not having your leave to stay." He noses at his Wife’s shoulder, "This is Eness, my Wife. I had come to find her after fighting my way back to The Islands." He smiles a little, sheepish, but not willing to remove his gaze from the most potent individual in the interaction between them all. "While I cannot be sorry for my Wife’s defense of me, I would like to extend an apology for my actions that brought out the fighter in her - if it did indeed offend you, Queen Nyimara of the Dunes."
OF THE LOST ISLANDS WILDS
▻ ten years - arabian - black with birdcatcher spots - 15.3 hh ◅