There's a ritual I think Anatole could suggest for Hadley that involves him wearing blue ribbons--would you maybe want to work that in? :O
One hand extended to the back of the mare, scratching at the special spot he had found early in their working relationship. His green eyes trailed away from the man as he thought over the silent answer. What could a man be if he was not a prisoner? Having never encountered the concept of slavery Anatole was at a loss and felt unsure of how to behave. A glance out to the sunlit area showed that the eagle was watching him equally as quiet, though he gathered the same warmth from her as he did while out in the land itself—freedom was like the warmth of the sun and he could not imagine living without it.
“Well,” he began. “You are a guest here and we treat our guests well. Have you eaten yet?” The dark wolf recalled bringing in a kill the previous day and could grant that to the skinny mongrel. Maybe food would get him to warm up more, and talk. That would at least help him narrow down what Grace’s “plan” was. The white horse whinnied lowly and pressed her face against his chest, to which the dark wolf responded with a rumbling growl of pleasure.
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