She and Salvia should become bffs.
Where his niece had acquired her horse was something that Larkspur did not know, and thus was suspicious of. Sirius had enforced the paranoia that came with secrecy within him. As Arbiter, his duty was to ensure that no one—not even those within its ranks—threatened Salsola. So he had summoned the girl to come when she was able, knowing that his own ambitions were the sort that needed careful planning. While simple, he was hardly stupid. A rogue stallion would upset everything he had in motion.
It was the sharp snort from his daughter’s horse that alerted the man to the approaching woman. Black, too, let out a whinny to warn the approaching horse that these mares belonged to him. With a low grunt of speech to the pair, he rose just as the girl turned her pretty face around and into the building. “Odessa,” he replied, and shrugged a long length of rope onto his shoulder.
He crossed out of the barn and eyed the horse. Too leggy, too long-faced; Larkspur thought of him as an ugly thing, truthfully. “Where did you get this from, again?” He asked, motioning for her to follow.
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