the way they always do, When you're ridin' sixteen hours
And there's nothin' much to do
X'yrin paused for several moments, her gaze traveling from him to the Springfield he'd just climbed up to sit upon, scooting away knife and partially done figurine. He wasn't sure she would take him up on the offer to ride, but she seemed to reach a decision and began shifting from the heavier-set and four-legged Secui form to a strong but willowy bipedal form. He reached out a strong arm to assist her up, hauling against her when she stumbled and nearly slipped, and letting her get settled next to him.
Turning his attention to the horses, Asgeir called out to them, Nice and easy now, Speck, Sunny; take 'er slow, and then flicked the long reins gently against their backs. They didn't need much encouragement to start moving. With a bit of a lurch the Springfield began rolling, bumping slowly over rocks and tufts of grass that were just a little too tough to bend to the heft of the wagon. He let X'yrin get accustomed to the natural movement of the wagon, then offered her the reins. Here. If you like, I c'n teach you to drive 'em. 's not hard, they're willing beasts. Been doing this job a long time.
Holding the reins aloft, he moved one and then the other so X'yrin could see where they attached to the harnesses, two to a horse. For a set of braided leather lines, they do good work. You hold two in each hand, over your first finger and in a fist. Then all it takes to make 'em step faster is a flick to one or th' other's back. Both at once and they'll both go into a trot. Pulling back makes 'em stop, 'specially paired with the word 'whoa', so keep the reins loose. Talking to 'em helps too, b'lieve it or not. He watched as she took the leather, and then, assured that she had it, picked up the bird in the making. He was just about ready to put away the knife and pick up the tiny chisel to detail it.
You just wish the trip was through
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