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Word Count: 840
For Sebastian. Dated 25 February, if you please.
★ ★ ★
It has been the freedom is not free, that we must earn what we get, and fight for what we believe in most. In many cases, this sentiment can inspire hope and strength in a downtrodden people; in others, it can cause dukkha – unnecessary, self-inflicted suffering – where there need be none. Many human wars, and later, even luperci wars, were wages with freedom in mind &nash; freedom of expression, freedom of speech, freedom of choice. The results of these wars were mixed, of course, because in reality, freedom ought to be free. Why ought any wish to take that basic right from another? Grace would never know, because she had never had such an urge. Even her own mount, Layla, was a companion, and the blonde luperci girl had first befriended the mare, and then sought to take her along, and the horse had responded in kind. In Grace's world, a near-utopian place of splendors and many a place and thing to explore and experience, freedom was given to all freely, and taken from none forcefully. Of course, that wasn't reality, and somewhere in her vaguely naïaut;ve mind, she knew that. That was why she was here, anyhow. To fix a wrong that need never have been so.
The trip from AniWaya to the Casa di Cavalieri had been long, but not terribly treacherous. Grace traveled in Lupus form, a satchel containing clothing clutched in her teeth. It was just faster and more convenient, even if slightly annoying to Grace, who preferred her optime form most times. Really, she just didn't want Hadley to have to be alone so long, what with all of the trauma that he had endured. She knew that those who were traumatized, such as abused horses, would often lash out or create a ruckus, and Grace needed none of that. So she bit the bullet: she knew that it would be faster getting there if she used her lupus form. At any rate, it had been a while, and she didn't mind the chance for a nice run, all told. Then, when she got there, she could shift, change into her clothing, and call for Hadley's master. They would need to exchange words, and hopefully, he was a reasonable bloke, and wouldn't make things difficult for her. She couldn't imagine that he could want to, but she never knew &nash; if he was like the blonde merchant that Grace had purchased Faris and the mares from, things could get messy.
She possibly, probably, should have brought back-up...
Taj came out of nowhere, dipped down and flew beside her as she ran. "What do?" he asked, the only real question that he had mastered. Grace usually could put it in context – right now, he was asking her where she was going. She slowed down slightly and caught her breath, trotting alongside the crow. "Going to Casa di Cavalieri. That's where Hadley's ma— former master lives," she corrected herself. "Want to go and see where our allies are? Just in case..." Taj would know.. well, she hoped that he would know.. that allies included wolves and horses alike, and that her call would signal need. Luckily, Hadley wasn't there, so he couldn't get in the way. That would be terribly unfortunate, if push came to shove. It won't, she reminded herself, and gave a soft huff at thinking too much like her paranoid, controlling mother. What happened would happen, really. She just had to handle herself well, and that was what would get her through this discussion. Charisma, and grace.
She arrived at the borders of Casa di Cavalieri a little after nightfall, though she stopped some distance away, so that she could safely sleep for the night. She rested before shifting, not wanting to over-exhaust herself. she called softly to see if Taj was around. After a couple of minutes, the crow nearly crash-landed on her head, and she yowled. "Taj, I swear to the Buddha himself, if you're coming in at that speed, use a frackin' branch!" Her avian friend cawed an apology, and she sighed a tired acceptance. She curled up on the ground underneath a tree, snuggling tightly around herself. Luckily for her, her father's heritage had done well by her, in terms of supplying a supple winter coat. Taj roosted comfortably on her and they fell asleep for the duration of the night.
The next morning, Grace rose before the sun did. Shifting was fairly uneventful, her lithe quadraped form transforming into a slender, fair biped. She dressed in the clothing from her satchel, a plain cotton blouse in light pink-hued red, and a typical pair of jeans. Sitting comfortably on her satchel, she meditated as light streaked the sky, pink and purple water-colour drenching the atmosphere. Taj flew off, presumably to find himself something to eat. Grace finished her meditation some time later, and re-situated herself against a tree with her satchel. She called, voice clear in the cold morning air, for the one who called himself Hadley's master.