Morningside Cuesta i lit up from reno, i was trailed by twenty hounds

she follows him, paws crunching on the thin layer of snow that blankets the ground. it is cold, but not terribly so, and she relishes the temperature, the way her breath fogs in the air. the night is clearer than previous evenings; she can see almost all the stars, twinkling. winking at her.

tasha had been born under spring stars. on the night of her entrance into this world, one had streaked across the sky, leaving an emerald trail. jaqsılıq, they had whispered. a good omen. that, alone, had saved her from certain death, for she was one of a litter of five--four males--and the entire quartet had perished within hours of their birth.

oh, the khagan's wrath was fierce that night! but the stars spoke, giving tashkent her life. but never would her father smile down on her the way he did his sons. her affair with sukh had merely been the final straw.

"do you regret leaving, ağası?" she asks, a cheeky smile stretching her mouth. after all, he had given up the certainty of ruling an empire for this, following his little sister into the wilderness. does he regret the impulse?