so many lost when the west was won.


Symera clambered easily up into Eira's saddle in front of Myrika, boosted up by the Vigiles's extended hand. Eira did not so much as twitch at the added weight on her back. Myrika would have been surprised if the horse had -- Symera was just so small, after all. The russet hybrid did not hold this against her young clan-mate; rather, she thought Sy was just adorable. This was perhaps patronizing in its own way, but Myrika did not take pains to make a show of Sy, either.

The coyote grinned down at her companion, cerulean eyes filled with merriment. She had ridden like Symera now was when she was young -- but Myrika had four legs. By the time she could gain a two-legged form at will, the hybrid was far too large to ride most horses as she now was with Sy. Comfortable? she inquired, ready to make adjustment if the tawny coyote required it. Myri would have to hold onto her if they got off to galloping, but she didn't plan to go that fast -- sheep weren't so smart, after all.

Sure, thanks, Myrika responded, her grin broadening as her gaze shifted to Val. Let's head that way, and I'll explain, she said, falling silent as Valkyrie inquired as to Symera's new form. Myrika would have looked upon the petite girl with jealousy at a younger time in her life, envious of her smallness. Now, however, Myrika's spirits were too high, and some of her had moved past girlhood jealousy. She might still feel a pinch or twinge of it here and there, but they were easy things to forget with the feeling of horseflesh moving and alive beneath her. She toed Eira's sides lightly, and the roan began stepping forward, still paying some attention to their new equine companion.

Farai let off a loud bray, and clopped closer to the pair of horses, approaching toward Freya with his snout extended, nostrils quivering. As Myri watched this, she laughed, shaking her head; she always found the donkey's zeal for making new friends amusing, and now was no exception. There wasn't a horse Farai would stop short of; Freya might have been a stomping, snorting stallion, all of eighteen hundred pounds, and Farai would have meandered up to the horse all the same. Myri was certain it was going to get the donkey in trouble, sooner or later.

Myrika is by Nat!

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