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A delighted burst of laughter, such a strange and wondrous sound, spilled from her at the antics of the thickly-built mare. As poor Ezekiel spluttered to pull air back into his affronted lungs, the Apothecary chuckled to herself, emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. Her rotund steed certainly never shied away from her physical adoration for the male. It was almost as though she had claimed him as a part of her brood. Viggo seemed nonplussed by his mother's antics, and continued to graze.
When the tawny and golden male finally managed to come over to her, Alaine shifted her position slightly, resting her weight on one leanly-muscled leg and recrossing her arms. His words brought another smile to her weary face, showing the youthful beauty that had once been the colliewoman's strongest attribute. "Yes well, it is hardly a fault of mine who my mare has the misfortune to romance," The lyrical words were accompanied by a wink, seemingly so out-of-character for the meek pagan woman.
Appraising eyes watched as her pupil vaulted the wooden railing, and sat himself comfortably atop the worn wood. She was comfortable in his presence, continually aware that she had made the right choice in picking him. Ezekiel was important, and she sensed within him a certain degree of loyalty that pleased her, just as it pleased her that he had sought her out after his father's injury. Gabriel had been irritable for a time, but it seemed that for now the Warrior-King had relented to her bossiness in the area of his health, and it was for the best.
The youth questioned her lightly, and the woman nodded, her auburn curls bouncing to frame pixie face in the sunlight. "Of course, as much as he possibly can. It frustrates him no end, being trapped in here," There was a slight shadow to her eyes - Neither father or son seemed to acknowledge the irreversible problems his shoulder injury would provide. While the skin healed well, the muscle beneath would always be somewhat damaged, she had concluded after observation.
"But I know how to deal with your father," A gentle jest to return the humor to her wizened emerald eyes. "The question is, pupil, what can I do for you?"
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