Cara was walking through the center of the stables, carrying a bale of hay in her arms. Her heart was beating a little faster than usual, as a few beads of sweat appeared on her brow. Her arms ached, as did her sides, wherever a stray bit of dried yellow grass decided it felt like poking her. Pushing the length of its stalk into her clothes, her bare flesh as she continued on her way. The heels of her boots clicked against the wooden floor of the barn as she made her way towards one of the center stalls. When she reached it, she pushed the bale of hay up a little higher, as she nudged the door gently with her boot, forcing it to swing back on its hinges. When the door had parted enough to let her through, Cara made her way into the horse's stall, and dropped the bale of hay into the animal's food trough with a gentle huff.
"There you are," Cara commented as she took a moment to catch her breath, before working out the knots in the string that kept the bale together. "Something nice and fresh to eat," she told the pure white horse, as she walked over to it, and placed her left hand just above its nose. Her right hand she curled, making it appear as though it were a lotus, as she scratched its chin, where the head and the neck met. It seemed to snort as its tail swished back and forth happily. "Enjoy your meal," Cara cooed as she strode out of the stall to retrieve another bale of hay to place in the next horse's stall, before she went back to pick all the dirt out of their hooves, brush their fur, and comb their tails.
But before she could return to the area in which the hay bales were kept, the sound of several horses stomping their feet on the ground reached Cara's ears. She could hear their tails swishing, as they snorted, and tugged on the rope that bound them to the front of their stall. She could hear a fear of them whinnying angrily, as a shrill, shrieking noise also reached her ears. And then there came the squeals of another of the stablehands. What Frostfawn, in their right petching mind, would squeal like that in the stables? she wondered, as her irises went from a deep violet, to an angry ruby red, with the occasional fiery orange fleck.
In an instant, she had turned on her heels, and begun walking in the opposite direction. When she reached the girl who had squealed, she glared angrily into her back. Her eyes settling on her mane of black hair, as she raised her right hand and tapped her on the shoulder. The girl turned to face her. "Just what do you think you are doing?" she asked, through grit teeth. Her voice hardly a whisper, but even so, there was no mistaking the cold that lingered there, her anger. "Even though you're a new recruit, you should know better than to squeal like a pig in the horse's stables. GET OUT, and don't you come back for at least the remainder of the day. Morwen knows it's going to take us that long to clean up after you."
The Vantha seemed to shrink beneath Cara's gaze, and soon backed out of the stables. Petching idiot, Cara thought, as she wondered where to start. There were horses all over the stable whinnying miserably and stomping on the ground. "Petch," Cara muttered under her breath, as she finally decided to start at one end of the stables, and work her way to the other. Before she had so much as taken her first step, she could feel her foot attempting to come down on something with bristles. She pulled her foot back, clearly confused, and was surprised to find a hedgehog shrieking on the stable floor. Well that explains a lot, Cara thought as she bent to pick it up. "This is no place for an animal quite like you... you're scaring the horses half to death," she purred. "Perhaps you'd be best left in the Hold, under the care of someone who can be trusted... if we can so much as find one of those," she finished, the orange flecks in her irises being replaced by an emerald green as she spoke. |