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Location: Great Village, IF Date: 04 Aug Weather: Cloudy, warm Time: Afternoon |
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Myrika is by James!
Myrika was daydreaming of the horses. She'd gone to visit the bay herd the previous few days, riding Cahal far out and afield. The redhead had traveled nearly to Amherst in search of the Ghost herd. The distinctively pale stallion in the lead of that band had cried warning at Cahal, and for a moment the redhead thought he might actually charge. The lead mare took her charges to safety, though, and the gold champagne stallion, his pale tawny-gold coat shimmering in the midday heat, took off after his band. Myrika had seen what she needed to see, however -- the stallion and all five of his mares were intact and quite healthy. And, if Myrika was a judge, at least one of them was gravid, perhaps already pregnant from her time under the Boreas canines.
Her own horse snorted his disdain, the month-old colt she was stroking. He wanted to go and be near his mother, but she was holding him with a firm hand on the shoulder. She merely wanted him to get used to her scent and touch, as was proper for a horse of his age. For her part, Eira was grazing indifferently in the larger corral. Myrika pet the colt's neck and murmured his name. The spindly-legged horse snorted and started tossing around. She released him and stepped back a few paces, leaning against the fence with a frown. The blood bay immediately went to the fence and glowered at it, pacing back and forth. He cried to his mother, but the mare only looked up briefly. She returned to her grazing, paying no mind to her son.
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