The dynamics of horses were familiar to Ezekiel because herds were so often like packs. Having the amount of stallions in the area that they did was troublesome, but he hoped the lack of mares would settle the brood into a bachelor herd. Heaven help them if some mare in heat wandered into the area. Viggo ignored the prancing horse, focusing instead on the task at hand. He would be able to deal with the flamboyant dark horse later if there was a need for it.
Ezekiel registered his mounts mood settling by the shift in his muscles and was glad for it. He allowed his attention to drift between the woman and the path ahead of him, ears swiveling to her voice even if his eyes focused forward. The word of the odd language was recognized, and in a flash, he recalled from where. “I thought I recognized it,” he proclaimed triumphantly. “Our medic speaks Arabic. Maybe he could try talking to your horse, he mentioned there were a lot of them in Egypt.”
“Are you from that area?” He asked, shifting his weight as they crossed a rise, showing the territory spread out below them. Most of the Waste inside of Inferni’s borders consisted of tall grass, broken up by large boulders and the coyote-carved trails.
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