Fall 61st 513 AV
Oryani had spent most of the morning grooming Khal, getting all the dirt and grime out of his coat. Her grooming kit was becoming handy, and though she had yet to use the soaps it provided, everything else had been quite useful. Right now, her hands were grasped around a curry comb, and she was rubbing it in circles around her Strider’s coat, watching dirt and dead hairs flake off with its movements. She brushed around one side, getting most of the horse’s strong chest and hindquarters, even going under his belly. The legs got a similar treatment, at least the parts where it was thick enough for the comb to do anything. It’s strong bristles basically massaged the short brown and white hairs, removing anything dead or dying from the coat. When she’d finished both sides, Khal’s fur was a lot shinier, and much cleaner to the touch. It wasn’t as good a job as an expert could do, but it worked.
She moved onto his mane, the last step for the day, and took a larger comb at it. She dragged the tool through the knots and curls, attempting to get every last strand straight as possible. She had nothing better to do at the moment, so she might as well try and make her Strider look beautiful. It was hard work, since the hairs easily tangled, but there wasn’t as much dirt in there. One of the soaps was apparently good for the mane, but the Chatakwe ignored it, not wanting to bother taking water at this. Instead, she went through the long, slightly dull, work of going through each and every strand, until finally- after nearly a bell of combing- the work was done. Khal’s mane was smooth and soft, and Oryani gave in to the temptation to rub her face against it. The stallion simply nuzzled his friend, before perking his ears up at an approaching person. The Chatakwe had sensed the arrival as well, and glanced up to spot her half-brother coming.
She winced at the sudden movement, as most of her body still hurt from the events five days ago. Sure, grooming Khal hadn’t been very physical, but this hit a painful spot. ”Yea?” she asked as he waved, watching the young man jog forward. He was a few inches shorter than herself, but still had the same black eyes from their mother. ”Ory! Guess what they just found!” She wasn’t quite sure what ‘they’ meant, so instead frowned at the teenager, expecting him to explain further. ”They found a whole bunch of really old casks of mead in a knoll! Everyone’s there.” The Chatakwe raised both her eyebrows in surprise, but quickly had to hold Khal back from sniffing her brother’s mare. The horse was much younger than her own, as Yetrian had only recently bonded with his Strider and gained his Windmarks.
”Right…” she nodded, knowing her brother expected her to come along and join in with the celebrations. ”Shall we ride?” Oryani asked, slipping on Khal’s Yvas and tightening the girth straps as she asked. She didn’t see her relative nod, but when she straightened with a groan from her work, Yetrian was already mounted and waiting expectantly. The kid was a forager, and though decent with a weapon, didn’t have the skills of some of the diamond or emerald clan warriors and hunters. The Darkeye pavilion had a variety of occupations, from Kalikar’s pottery, to her work in the Watch, to Yetrian’s habits in foraging. The kid was a genius at finding plants, at least in Oryani’s opinion. It seemed like he could sniff them out like a dog.
She pulled herself onto Khal’s back rather than mounting, pain racking her legs, arms, and back. She hoped that the alcohol would help erase some of the irritating injuries, since even the healer’s attention she’d gotten that day still didn’t fix everything. She followed her sibling’s lead as he turned his mare away, and nudged her Strider with her heels, letting the stallion trot after the other pair.
After several chimes of slow, painful riding, the quartet reached a large, obvious gathering of Drykas and striders. Oryani slid from her seat with a wince, landing on pained legs. She rested one shoulder on her Strider’s warm, strong back, to keep herself upright, and smiled as a random man passed a large mug of ale to her. ”Thanks” she nodded, as he handed another to her brother, before taking a deep sip out of the alcohol. It was strong… very strong, and before taking another gulp, the Chatakwe found a stiff seat. It was a large rock that stuck out of the grassy earth, the perfect place to rest and relax. She lowered herself onto the surface, letting out a breath of pleasure as the pressure on her limbs released. She took another gulp and relaxed even more, before gazing around to watch the Drykas around her.
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