do you feel like a young god? claim

[Amet]

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

Truthfully, Amet has already grown to love Beqanna more than he ever had loved the Dunes and its residents. He hadn't ever loved it, really. Their dam, who had been caring and warm during Amet's youth, had swiftly transformed into something too unfeeling to even pass as a mother. The Akhal-Teke colt had cried himself to sleep quietly more often than he would ever care to admit, all of the distress he had felt during the day escaping without anyone's notice. He had feared the most for his siblings, for newborn Iset and Sakir, but perhaps they had been lucky to never see the kind side of their mother. Shalla. They didn't even call her mom.

There's a sour taste in his mouth suddenly, despite his overwhelming desire to relax next to his sister for the first time in... well, ever. Beqanna will fix us, his mind whispers, as he grins blatantly at Iset's unfamiliar laughter.

She jabs at him with her verbal sword and the metallic bay feigns hurt, his narrow head thrown upward in affront. "Excuse you!" He lays his ears back and snorts, though there's a certain degree of difficulty in hiding ones smile when it decides it finally wants to show itself after so long. "Would you even be able to carry me, little fawn?"

He laughs loudly and takes off after Iset as she pivots and sprints, her lanky frame moving with surprising swiftness. He hits the water just after she does, his small hooves planting unsteadily in the silt as he bounds deeper still. The cool liquid laps at his neck and over the swell of his back and he paddles with ease as he turns back towards Iset, his amber eyes bright with happiness.

Lowering his muzzle to the lake, Amet flicks his head upwards and splashes droplets at the chestnut yearling. "I'm glad you're here," he offers vulnerably, before putting his nose back into the crystal clear water to blow bubbles with his exhales.

Amet