Shukran. She said as a heavy smile settled upon her face. She didn’t know a lot of words but the desert language she always found fascinating therefore it was the only one she learned a few more phrases than just the thank you and hello. His people had even been an inspiration for her in many ways. Reading about the human beliefs, hearing the canine ones, seeing the pictures of the weak books she had carried but lost over the years. She remembered the story of Cleopatra and her hair oh how she loved the many different depictions of her hair. How it looked in so many books inspired. Reading of her strength, her glory, her love… everything she wanted to be but never could be. So she merely kept the one thing she could keep similar, her hair.
Finally it dawned on her that she was staring and shivering at him like she had gone into a sort of shock. Forgive me. Yes I can ride, I love horses. She said shakily approaching the female feeling like daggers stabbed into her with every step. She whimpered and when her body collapsed against the side of the horse and sighed happily. She was warm, so warm. She looked to the male who worried for her so and she felt so grateful to him. Ismi, Xyza Glow. Her attempts at the desert language were slow and careful like she was making sure they were right even though they sounded strange from the chatter of her jaw. Her eyes blue and cold from her brush with death and still bordering the edge of sanity shut for a moment. The daggers of the cold pierced her deeply as it seemed feeling was swiftly returning. Let us get warm please. She tried to pull herself upon the horse but failed.
Image courtesy of Pure-Poison89
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