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Pffft, mine are pure ramble. I like your style much better.
Caspa was not a horse, and she did not have the speed to escape the hooves that were coming for her - so close now, then the animal was thankfully bright enough - or obedient enough - to turn from its threateningly close trajectory. As it went, though, hooves flew out in all directions, it seemed, kicking up snow that dusted Caspa's face and inspired even more chills under her skin than were already there from the pure nerves of being so close to the earth-pounding equine. It seemed her presence had been just as disconcerting to the horse and rider, though, as they veered across the track, before coming to rest and the man slipped easily to the ground, taking command of his horse from what looked like to Caspa a less risky position. She took the opportunity to duck now under the rails, removing herself utterly from the field of peril, which was something of a relief, but she frowned with concern after the pair whose ride she had unwittingly interrupted so abruptly. She should make some explanation, or apology, she supposed, but didn't see that running after them and scaring the horse more would solve anything. She would wait here, then. Resting one still-shaking elbow on a fencepost she was startled to find something soft brushing against it, and twitched her eyes down to see a small and sinuous creature: a cat like the cougar she'd met in the city, but far more convincingly tame than that beast had been, despite its loyalty to its canine master. Caspa lifted up her arm and the animal slunk beneath it, and then turned to rub its head against the limb once more. She lifted her dark brows at its indiscriminate affection. She had only chickens for pets, and they were not inclined to snuggle, preferring to peck or claw at her whenever she picked them up. She had not been keeping them as well as she might, lately, letting them run around too freely but at least foxes and suchlike were nervous of the Chien Hotel and kept away. Since she'd returned from the north, she'd been more attentive at keeping them in their hutch when she was not present, although she often felt guilty about even this - locking the birds up did not seem fair, and if she was honest she had preferred knowing they had their freedom to wander while she was travelling, even if it was possible she could have lost them while absent. She did not really consider herself good with animals - or people, for that matter, but then, she was perfectly capable of functioning around others and that was all that was necessary for a simple soul like herself. She could do with a few more character-judging instincts, she supposed, but you could not change what talents you were born with. She had no idea what kind of wolf the one on the large horse would be, whether he might blame her for the almost-collision incident, but she feared his discontent much less than she feared the hooves of his horse and so waited patiently without any kind of apprehension for their return, giving the cat the odd cursory stroke while she did so.
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