As the women tried to justify herself the young Nishant's ears flicked back, muscles along his arms tensing as he forced himself to listen to her rubbish; typically he would of spoken his mind more freely, but whom was he rebelling for with his mother gone now? And so the hunter had concluded to at least attempt to show a fraction more respect to the tribes members, but he had expected his resolve to be tested quite so quickly and with some infuriating woman who simply rubbed him the wrong way. When the other was finished he forced his jaw to relax so that he could speak, “I am not some feeble orphan that I need to accept the food from someone like you.” the words were spoken tightly, clipped at the end somewhat “So thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I can hunt for myself” to speak the words was like to swallow poison, it seemed foolish to thank someone when they had done nothing to benefit him and had simply looked down upon him without knowing a thing about him, yet he understood such was the expected response and so he gave it, albeit reluctantly.
Turning from the female he continued on his way to the stables, not waiting for the female's response and not caring to hear her words, unsure if he would be able to continue to watch his language if he stuck around the woman any longer, plus it had been his true intention to go find Buck in the first place, not to idle around the village speaking to some intolerable new member. Keeping to the less busy trails and paths, the lad quickly made his way over to the stables, all but running inside of them and making his way over to his beloved Stallion, throwing himself over the stools door without bothering to unlock it he wrapped his arms around the buckskin’s neck. “Hey Buck-a-roo. Miss me?” he crooned at the horse, stepping back and expecting the stallions condition.
Image courtesy of Joachim S. Müller
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