The horse shook herself and watched the other human who had led her around the strange world with dark eyed patience. Her nostrils remained flared throughout the entire ordeal and she danced out of his hands a time or two, but he was quiet with her and she rewarded his behavior with a lady-like demeanor as if she were a queen before a coronation. An intelligence ranged about her, naturally gifted because to have any creature at one's side in the desert, there must be some breeding for independent thought. Without her master, she remained in control. 

She was not so giving to others, however, and whenever a stranger showed a sign of approaching, her slender ears would flick back against her skull and she would not hesitate to menace them, a cocked hoof or a snap of her jaws. She was a creature of beauty and beautiful threat, the one juxtaposed over the other. 

When she was cleaned, her hide gleamed dark with the water and she had set her nose to the tiles where she had drank of the runoff, licking it to get at the wealth. But the water was over and he led her from the sheer tiles onto the white hallways where the ground remained as slippery as before. She walked daintily, unsure of her footing, and snorted in alarm when a beeping sound erupted out of an open doorway. Still, she followed him and kept close eye on this one. 

The hospital staff watched as he led her through their clean domain and despite the bath, she would never be clean enough for them. She breathed heavily, taking in the random scents and while she had not voided once, the place smelled too much of man to do anything that gauche, she was leaving hairs about. 

They were directed toward a particular recovery room where a gentleman stood over the insensate Zahi. The desert prince looked anything but what he was. His hair back, his skin cleaned, his slender body in a blue hospital gown and then covered in the white blankets, he was just a darker skinned man with tubes in his bare arms and into his nose. 

Anat whickered, recognizing his scent even in the midst of all of the antiseptics and soaps. She stepped forward, but when he did nothing in response, she merely stood, waiting for him, her dark eyes fixed on him. 

“The wound hadn't ruptured any of his vital organs,” the man said, watching the horse with a slight frown on his face. “Doctor did have to clean out a good deal of blood and injured tissue. It was an extensive wound and had he waited any longer, he wouldn't have made it. You would do well to bring any subsequent ones to us before their injuries could fester. Doctor supposed it had been four days since he'd been injured. He obviously had kept a constant motion which, while it normally would not be very good, it had kept the bleeding up which in turn kept the wound washed, in a manner of speaking.” He sniffed. Obviously he didn't think very highly of using active bleeding as a sanitary practice. “But he's lost a lot of blood as well. It's a wonder he was standing.” 

The mare seemed small, despite the large room, and she approached when the man moved away from the bed, so that she might touch her muzzle to his arm where the needles had entered. 

“Don't let that animal touch him like that. She'll only contaminate the site.” The man's lips thinned.