A Word with Horse

[Arundhati]

spring 65 509 av

It was raining. She both hated and loved the rain, but it made her look like like a drowned cat found in the bottom of a canal. Raindrops would bead on her eyelashes and run down her face, but she kept walking. Her long hair was thoroughly soaked, and it would take hours to dry it again. Things like this made her want to cut it short. It wasn't very cold, and people were still out and about, but most had jackets or cloaks to wrap themselves in.

She'd decided that she'd rather be soaked.

It was perhaps a stupid idea, but she enjoyed the moment of impact between raindrop and skin. Perhaps that was idiotic of her, but she loved it nonetheless. Her mother had intended for her to go out and get some 'fresh' air, as if she wasn't already getting enough. It hadn't been raining then.

A horse was just standing out on the side of the street, head held high like nothing bothered him. He was all tacked up and ready to go, which must've meant that his master was somewhere near, ready to come back at any moment. Must be a very loyal horse to not run away in the rain, unless he enjoyed it as much as she. The aloof way he glanced at her like she was a common street urchin just made her mad, like he was better because he had a rider. He knew she was a horse, too, she could see it in his eyes. Sure, he had a rider, but that didn't mean he was better than her. She could turn into a human, for Gods' sakes! Shouldn't that make her better than him?

She walked up to the horse, angrily mumbling to herself. She should teach him a lesson! If there weren't other people here, she would have shifted into a horse and spoken to him in a way she knew he'd understand. The horse didn't back up at her approach, so she grabbed part of his mane and yanked his head down level to hers.

"Don't look at me that way, I know you're not better than me, just because you have a rider and I don't," she hissed into his ear in Common, hoping he could understand. It would be a pain for her to take time out of her day while it was pouring rain and talk to something that couldn't understand her.

[Murmur]

The steed named Sangre was an equine most sophisticated. With head held high and nose flared, he emanated a regal vibe that made this stallion a creature not to be trifled with. He was most proud, as was indicative of his stance before the foal child, whose gaze he did not appreciate. But it made no matter. She was a creature lesser than him, unwhole, and insolent at best. Her manner of accosting infuriated him, and in his anger, he snapped at the air and stomped his hoof. His owner had been occupied within an inonspicous store, whose green velvet curtains and gilded ornamental sign reflected much of the beauty of Ravok. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, as always," was the man's parting words as he stepped out the door. But whatever else he might have wanted to say quickly died on his tongue when he spotted a drenched woman hurling jarring words at his horse. A reject whore, how lovely. He sauntered closer, brow quirked, parcel tucked neatly into the black jacket he adorned. What raindrops fell were blocked by the hooded cloak he wore, lent to him by his guardian for the day. "This must be some new breed of crazy. Horse whisperer, I wonder?" Murmur eyed the girl, his lips curled into a sneer, "Has my faithful deed done something of repute that requires disciplinary action?"

[Arundhati]

She didn't even look up from the horse as he snorted and pawed at the ground, nor as a voice behind her started speaking.

"Yes, he..." She trailed off. Would someone understand why without further explanation? Did it matter? "He looked at me funny." She turned around to face the man who owned this ridiculous horse.

"And your horse isn't even a purebred." She added, as if an excuse to her behavior. It wasn't. She realized how stupid she sounded only after someone pointed it out. How could she be so ridiculous? And if he thought her crazy, let it be. He could think what he wanted. But this horse, this dear horse insulted her without saying a word and it made her angry. He indeed wasn't even a purebred, but she was. At least, she considered herself one. And on top of that, she could turn into a human woman. At least, in shape. In mind? If she forced herself into a sophistication that wasn't really her. But it was needed outside her home, needed so she could interact with people. This halfbreed horse behind her wasn't any better than she was, even if he pretended to be.

What a stupid excuse to blend in.