There had been gain and loss on the trip, but no fault of it was Larkspur’s. He had been sent to gather horses alone, and so he had—the slaves were Itachi’s responsibility. The horse the Protégé had chosen was left alone, for while the animal was rubbed down as the others, it was not meant for Sirius. This one, she would be useful. While the vague idea remained with Larkspur, he was slowly realizing what it would take to form the creature that Sirius so desired. Speed, hardiness, and that just-so color.
He did not hear the woman approach, though Rowan did. She kept her gaze low and continued on her task, though she signaled only seconds before the coyote spoke. Larkspur lifted his head and took a step away from the animal. Initially, he believed she was talking about the horse. It was only as his eyes followed her gaze did she realize what it was the Crone meant. He snorted bullishly. “I do what I please with what is mine,” he said dismissively, knowing that Tlanti, like Eris, was from a different world than he. “Y’think I’d be better off doin’ this myself?” There was the faintest challenge there, for while he and Tlanti had come to some understanding, he still did not think she considered him more than a laborer.
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