SSWM - 364
The pair walked through the river’s waters, his toes instantly frozen at its touch. It lapped at his ankles, touching his legs with a hurried playfulness that Heath simply ignored. He did not find it to be a time to look upon the moving water and reflect. The white woman and her fly away mane with decorated beads had been chosen by his sight and the male was not distracted so easily. She was of Crimson Dreams, the scent easy enough to pick up. Still run by the ebony female that Heath was not even close to forgetting. Her green acid eyes still bore into him from his memories, but he did not feel fright when looking upon her face. He felt ashamed, embarrassment and guilt. Emotions that Heath did not enjoy dwelling on and so he pushed them aside and replaced it with a hard cast on his features.
Reigns in his hand Lumière followed along the bank as he approached the wolfess, whose voice rang in his ears before he could greet her. He had planned to question her, though her polite comment explained all that he searched to ask. Their eyes were locked for a moment, and Heath searched them. It wasn’t hard to find the honesty that rang in their bright color, but Heath was not so easily persuaded. The Miracles wolf left a polite distance between them, and as he stopped the mare continued her approach. Knowing she wished to only get closer to the wolf Heath lowered his hand, drawing her head with it. Petting the horse’s neck in his urge to calm her Heath spoke in response,
“I’m no knight.” His voice deep, and slightly brooding.
Heath straitened his back. It was odd for her, in his opinion, to ask who he was before explaining who she was herself. Of course he wasn’t a knight, he was merely Heath, the Marshal and stable hand. Honor and valor was reserved for those better then he, those that had not made the mistakes he had. A knight was something that he looked up to. Still feeling off put by her presence in their lands he asked,
“Who are you?”