They were very much different from each other; Salvia was fair and bold, and Odessa dark and shy. Yet in the days since they had begun turning into women, changes had swept over them. Now Salvia knew what it was to be clever and be subversive, and she could see a confidence in her cousin that had not been there before. This, ultimately, pleased her. Part of the reason (though not the main cause) she hated her sister was for such cowardice.
She used a metal currying comb that had likely been made in Freetown (and brought back from the first trip), and with this went through and brushed out the knots and dirty clumps within the gelding’s coat. It was a mindless task for her—she had been caring for horses as long as she had been able to shift, and around them long before that. “I don’t know,” she admitted, and shrugged. “He said he had business to finish, but I’d imagine they’d be back before winter gets too bad.”
After all, it made sense to her that bringing a horse and cart home might be hard with snow. Soon, she imagined, soon indeed. “What have you been up to? Still working on that book?”
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