Closed Three if by Sea of Grass

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

9th Summer, 512 A.V. They had ridden long and hard already, and though a Strider could tap into the Web for strength and speed and endurance, the Web was in shambles, which was yet another reason Sama'el was sent to Riverfall. The cities of Cyphrus must be monitored for threats and information, and that was not possible with the current state of things. Bigarren slowed at some invisible, inaudible signal from Sama'el, who looked more comfortable in his skin while astride a horse than anywhere else. Dohaina remained behind with her foal, and if he had been traveling alone, he might have risked Horse, but he was only a Windrunner, and if the three of them needed to flee, it were best they could all travel at the same speed. The horses were herd creatures and creatures of habit, so Tairell and Andraste would likely slow of their own volition unless their riders ordered otherwise. "We ought to break our fast soon," he said once they were all traveling apace. "Give the horses a rest, see to the Web. Talk a bit." It was good to have three, he thought. This far out, it was good to have more than just a Strider watching his back. Mealla and her bow could warn off anything or anyone that might threaten them. Ronan too unless Sama'el needed some help with the repair of the Web. He was doing so much of late, Sama'el was sure he was nearing a new breakthrough in his ability, which was exciting, but he didn't think it right to talk about it. It occurred to him that they were all three of them marked. He didn't feel right asking them to tell their stories; after all, communion with deity could be an intensely private thing. But he thought he might tell them the story of how Syna touched him, which was a much happier story despite the dangers than the one they knew of Oriana's curse. Perhaps Ronan would finally tell him about the gem that had become part of his flesh, and perhaps Mealla would tell them what it was like to commune with the winds.

[Mealla Stormsong]

Mealla’s thoughts were, as always, far from duty and on being aware of what was around her. The winds and breezes would tell her if there was any threat, and so she simply let Andraste follow after the other horses without interference or guidance, whilst she frowned and focused in. Her thoughts were on Riverfall, and on what the city would be like. She’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t worried. She’d heard the tales, and they made her worry; so much so that she’d almost asked Sama’el if she could not at least stay behind. It was only her stubborn pride and the thought that he might once again view her as weak that had stopped her from giving a voice to the words, but, still, she was not looking forward to the visit. What if she got lost-? What if she got taken-? She was not going to be a broodmare to some horrible big blue thing. Not a chance. She felt Andraste slow, and one hand tightened instinctively on her bow as the other readied to reach for an arrow, before she snapped fully to awareness, realising that there was no threat, but that they were apparently to take a break. Finally, she thought. She’d long since lost all feelings to her legs and her arse. Whilst she spent a lot of her time astride a horse, she was not used to going for so long, and at such a pace. It was tiring. Maddening that she felt so tired, as well, but tiring most all. If she wanted to be a full member of the Watch, then she was going to have to get used to this. And she hoped that she could. She wasn’t about to settle down and just be some wife who did nothing but sit down and wait - breed and bring up children - whilst her husband risked his life upon the Sea of Grass. If she was ever to marry, then she wanted to be there with him. She turned to face Sama’el and shrugged her shoulders, lowering her bow once again, a slightest sheepish expression on her face at having been caught out, though she tried to hide it behind a scowl. “Talk?” she said. “What would you have us talk about?”

[Ronan]

Though Ronan was anxious to get to Riverfall, Sama’el spoke with sensibility. His stomach had been grumbling for the last hour or so, and the horses were flagging just a little - though he knew Tairell could plough on if she needed to. “Agreed, we should eat," Ronan said in flowing Pavi. It was relaxing to be among his own. When Mealla spoke, he glanced over to her. He liked her, he really did. She was plucky. He didn't know her well enough yet, but there was a stubborn heart beneath that exterior. He watched her ride with intrigue. She seemed to have little control over her strider, and yet its gait was so measured and careful. He supposed that was the Drykas-horse bond in action. He decided to side with her, smiling mischevously as he turned back to Sama'el. "Yes, brother," that still felt strange... so very strange, "what is it you'd like us to talk about?"

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Well, I thought we could braid each other's hair and talk about our feelings," he said, perfectly capable of being a smart ass when the situation required it. He just rarely let it out. Rolling his eyes and laughing, he tumbled expertly out of the yvas to land on his feet. "Or we can sit in silence, if you prefer. It'll be a nice change. You both snore at night." They weren't anywhere near water, unfortunately, so he cupped his hands in front of Bigarren and concentrated until the res began to pool, transmuting it as soon as it was full. The stallion, accustomed to this, began to drink from the tiny trough. He wanted to like Mealla, but she was ornery as a goat. Maybe that was just in response to him, though, and so he hoped Ronan was a good influence on her, or perhaps they would spar without him because he hadn't yet figured out a way to give her training without her back going up immediately.

[Mealla Stormsong]

“Aw,” Mealla replied, as she jumped from Andraste’s back and landed on the grass (though, of course, with far less grace than Sama’el), “if you had only told me that was your plan I would have brought some ribbon with me. Pink would have suited you, I think.” She glanced towards Ronan and smiled, purposely not looking at Sama’el. “Don’t you agree? Pink. Maybe purple... I don’t think blue... Not really his colour...” She stepped up beside Andraste, patting the mare’s neck, whilst she discreetly tried to stretch her aching muscles, surprised that she was actually standing. She was really going to have to practice for longer. She finally turned her attention to Sama’el, and paused, staring with fascination as the water pooled in his hands. It took her a moment to realise that she was gaping, but, when she finally did, she quickly snapped her jaw shut and frowned, praying that he hadn’t seen. She did not want him to know that he had, for just a moment, impressed her. “And I would not talk about snoring if I were you, dear master,” she continued, trying to act as if her momentary slip had not just happened. She added a note of contempt to her voice, though a slight blush lingered on her cheeks. “I’m always sure there’s an earthquake when you’re around.”

[Ronan]

“Yes, definitely pink. Blue would be too... Masculine?” Ronan let out a low chuckle. Gods, sometimes he just needed to laugh. It was a serious world, and it was far too easy to get swept up in that volatile tide. He noted Mealla’s gaping awe at Sam’s use of reimancy. He wondered how she’d react at the sight of sand pouring from his own hands. On that note had she even noticed he rock in his hand, placed there by Semele? He joined in her riposte. Strangely, he didn't want Sam to notice her awe either. Her persona was too fun a visage to spoil. “Yes Sam, we've had this chat before. It's your slumber that shakes the camp and scares the horses.” Ronan felt a touch of sadness, remembering the times they had joked about Sam and Issima’s noisy nuptials in their tent. But Issima was gone, just like the rest. The grasses took all in the end.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He scowled at them, playing along. "But pink makes me look fat." Few Drykas could actually be termed fat, and they were generally the elderly or injured who only moved when Endrykas moved. Or the pregnant ones who took a little too much advantage of the fact that they were 'eating for two.' Soon he was smiling, though. The smile was never far away with Sama'el. When Bigarren had drunk enough, Sama'el moved toward Tairell and Andraste. "With your permission?" he asked deferentially. They might be his apprentices, and he might be Ronan's Ankal, but even that didn't give him rights to their horses. At least while they were still alive.

[Mealla Stormsong]

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think anything could ever make you look bad. There's nothing in the world that could do such a thing,” Mealla said before she could stop herself. And then she froze, her hand stilling, her expression becoming one of horror as realisation hit. Oh gods. Oh gods. Zulrav help her. Anyone help her. She’d said the words out loud. She hadn’t meant to, of course she hadn’t, but they’d just sort of slipped out and... and... Now would be a good time for a pack of Glassbeaks to come along... Please? Yes? Oh gods... Oh gods. Mealla stared at Andraste’s neck, not daring to look at either Sama’el or Ronan. In fact, looking at Ronan would probably make things far, far worse. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to even think that she might like Sama’el, because she didn’t. She really didn’t, and that wasn't just denial speaking. She didn’t say anything more, didn’t react to the question, didn’t give permission but instead continued to stand there, silent. Petch.

[Ronan]

Ronan was in the throes of laughter, when Mealla spoke. He quickly fell into silence, snorting, before raising a hand over his face to conceal the reaction. He wondered if Sama'el had caught those words too. So there was something soft beneath that tough, stubborn skin. He wanted to butt their heads together, he really did. Travelling with Sama'el and company was certainly never boring. When Sam came toward Tairell, Ronan motioned a gesture of allowance. He trusted his brother with the Strider, though there weren't many he'd allow close to her. She had always been a defensive beast, quick to lash out at the unknown. Ronan had tempered that a little in recent years, but not completely.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el heard, but the confused look on his face was proof he didn't understand what was going on in her head. But she was prickly at the best of times, so he didn't ask her to clarify. Perhaps Ronan with his years of experience knew what was going on, but at least he responded to the question, and so Sama'el stepped forward to offer his mare the Water he was calling in the name of Laviku and Makutsi. "We should talk about mating Tairell," he said. Again, this was not an arena in which a good Ankal would attempt to bandy his will about. Though he was in charge of their herd, such as it was, Tairell was bonded to Ronan and to nobody else. "If she gets pregnant, you can ride Bigarren. I don't plan on letting Dohaina carry again for a while." She was, after all, not a brood mare. Still, she had many virtues that he wanted to breed into the future of their herd. When the horse had had enough, he turned again to Mealla and Andraste, his offering of water once more made, albeit silently this time.