8)
Word Count → 535
Silvano's words tugged at his heartstrings. Hati had been born here in the kingdom of the Cour des Miracles, and all of his family was here as well -- from his oldest siblings to his little niece and nephew, the littermates he spent every moment of his childhood with, and of course his mother and father. He could not even fathom what a blow it would be if his home dissolved the way Silvano's had, everyone he ever knew scattering to the winds. How horrible. He had not considered it from that point of view before, and it was startling. "I am so sorry for your loss," he said gravely, genuinely upset. His ears fell back, and he continued quietly, "You can stay here as long as you want, though, we'll be here forever." His arched tail swayed slowly with what he hoped were words of reassurance. He firmly believed it; nothing could shake this pack, especially not with his father as the King. And Hati would never leave them, his loyalty was unshakeable. "If you need help with anything, you can ask me. I'll do my best."
He felt Silvano's hand on his shoulder and relaxed imperceptibly, though he was more relieved when they started moving together away from the unhappy colt. He silently promised to return soon and make it better; the horse's discomfort made Hati uneasy, even if Silvano assured him it was not serious. "It shouldn't take many trips with your assistance. A pond would be a good idea, but you'd have to ask Alder about that, he's the Marshall in charge of everything here." There was a note of admiration in his voice, the overt respect he had for the tall coywolf. He hoped Alder would be happy that he and Silvano helped out. They padded from the barn toward the river, a short walk under the warm sun.
"Yes, I like horses a lot," he answered quickly, smiling to himself as he echoed words he had spoken before. He dipped the bucket into the clear running water, waiting for his packmate to do the same as he spoke. "So do my brother and sister. Someday I want to find a horse to be my partner... How did you find your stallion?" he asked, intent on hearing the story. He did not know where his future horse would come from, whether they would be in the wild and their paths would cross by sheer luck, if they belonged to another pack and had to be bought or traded for, or any of the other stories he had dutifully committed to memory. Maybe his horse had not been born yet, and he could help raise them and forge the strongest bond possible. He had been thinking about it frequently, every time he was drawn to the stables. He was patient and used to waiting longer than his siblings for good things, but he could not keep that little glimmer of hope from rising in his chest every time he saw the dappled herd out in that pasture, or the long muzzles peeking out curiously over stall doors. Surely one of them, one day, would have that special quality that spoke to him.
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