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Date Posted: 15:35:08 08/21/01 Tue
Author: Banat er Rih
Author Host/IP: ool-18bbc925.dyn.optonline.net / 24.187.201.37
Subject: *Ingresses*

The copper she enters, raising her delicate dial to regard the land. She is still save her slowly moving orbs and blowing nares. Banat stretches her neck to gently scratch her large barrel with gleaming ivories, careful not to harm the unborn foal inside. The foal stirs restlessly, impatient to enter the world. Banat whickers softly to it, trying to reassure the being who will soon become her second foal. Shall it be a colt, or a filly? Midnight black or blood red, ivory white or golden brown? Whatever the gender, whatever the color, it will certainly have the tapered and dished dial, the high tail carriage, the intelligence and spirit of the Arabian. Banat spots some fine sand shaded by a lone palm tree, the slow breeze wafting over it as the femina ambles over. The grains of sand sparkle like diamonds in the blinding sunlight as the chestnut mare strains, staring unseeingly ahead. Patiently Banat waits, excitement fluttering within her at the promise of a new equine. Soon a foal comes into the world, a foal whose ancestors were so carefully bred by the Bedouins, a foal who someday will fly across the sands, mane and tail streaming in the wind. Banat turns, holding her breath, anxious to see her offspring for the first time...

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