Flashback [The Windmount Stables] The Little Storyteller (Lissa)

[Rhydian]

15th, Summer, 512 AV
Midday

As usual, Syliras was a congested mess of activity. So different from life outside of its walls. In here everything felt rushed and frantic. Out there, someone could sit and stare up into the leaves for hours and time would ease by slowly--perfectly. An angry shout tore Rhydian from her internal complaining, and a man she'd nearly bumped into cursed as he jerked away, a scowl on his face. The Witch ignored him, kept her eyes forward, and carefully led her pony through the shopping crowd. Her hood was up and drawn down over her eyes, obscuring her displeased face.

Braun clopped obediently beside her, ears twisting and flicking as he listened to the sounds all around. The pack saddle strapped to his back was empty, but soon it would be loaded down and they could be on their way back into the trees and to the quiet solitude of the Den. Their first stop was to the Butcher of Alban. If it wasn't here she was buying meats it was from the Akalak men at the Mithryn Outpost.

Soon Braun's pack was weighed down with a few weeks worth of beef, venison, pork, and chicken. If she was anything at all, it was a meat lover. Even freshly cut off the slab it was mouthwatering. She would cook something up tonight over her fire and have a bit of a feast. When the sacks were tied down, Rhydian mentally went through her list. Grain from the stables, then to check at the smithy about her broken dagger.

Around the Nettle District she went, pushing and shoving and squeezing when needed. Luckily leading a stocky little pony helped to move people out of the way, and soon they were climbing the path through rolling green pastures toward the Windmount Stables. It was better here. Less people, more greenery, and the sound of horses nickering from their grazing spots to friends in stalls at the barns. The Witch never kept her pony confined, but instead allowed him to graze freely around the Den. He never wandered far, and always came when he was called. It wasn't usual for him to sleep in the cave with her either, safe from nighttime predators and bad weather.

He whinnied excitedly at the other horses, ears shoved forward and carrying his head high. There was a slight prance in his short, quick steps that made Rhydian smile. She stroked him gently on the neck and murmured a few sweet words. He snorted and tossed his head but simmered down at least a little, except for a quick bump of his forehead against her shoulder.

Ledger NoteAny items "purchased" in this thread will have long since been used/eaten, so it is merely for storytelling's sake that I added them in here.

[Lissa Maze]

[

Lissa Maze The group was beginning to get on Lissa's nerves. She was quite happy going out by herself, but people got so silly about people who were of a younger persuasion that, well, adults. Lissa preferred to avoid the words "children" and "child" now that she was thirt-teen. She liked to emphasize the last syllable--she was a teenager! Almost fourteen even. She felt big...and annoyed. One of the younger children tugged on her hand, pointing down one street and another. "No, we can't go there," she said irritably. Or rather, you can't. She was sick of this group outing. "Aenysa, can I go to the stables?" Lissa wasn't sure that she was good at being cute. The little children could be cute, but ought a teenager to be 'cute'? She settled for begging instead, which was much safer. "C'mon, please. I know how to get back by myself, really, I've been loads of times, and there's lots and lots of people between here and there so it's safe and all and--" Aenysa cut her off, smiling. She had heard this particular plea a few times before. "You be back well before dark," she warned, "and don't bother the people if they're busy, got it?" There was a hint of a nod, a grin, and a slight blur as the child freed herself from the group and started running towards the stable, not even visible yet from the street. -- Syliras was a city, though Lissa rarely thought of it as such. In her mind it just was. It was a place, if it had to be anything, but really it was a lot of little places and people and smells. But it was, in fact, a city, and that meant crowd and people and houses, and not as much room for horses in the street-stuffed areas. The girl was skipping as the stable got bigger in front of her--or rather, as she got nearer--and entirely failed to notice a tree root thick in her path. Down went Lissa, and up came a cloud of dust from the dry path. Drat! Her nice shirt was all dusty now, and there would be a bruises that she'd have to deal with and maybe even explain to Aenysa, if she wore a dress before they faded. These were petty annoyances in the face of horses. There was a pony at...home, but Blizzard wasn't quite like these horses. He was little and fat and getting old and he didn't like people putting his saddle on, so he puffed up and made the girth loose. Lissa had learned about securing a saddle by falling off many, many times and finally figuring it out. Blizzard could be a clever pony.l Ponies always seemed more annoyed than horses. Maybe, she thought, they just had the same amount of annoyed stuffed into little pony bodies. Blizzard wasn't bad, but one unhappy pony wasn't anything like a whole stable of horses. Lissa finally looked up as the dust settled and saw the obvious--a horse and a woman, right ahead of her. She got herself up, feeling where the bruses would be with resigned annoyance, and got herself to a trot (not so satisfactory as a trot on a horse) to catch up. Trying to remember what she'd been told, she didn't run up to right behind the horse (horses kicked, after all) and veered to beside him, accidentally knocking into the woman. "Sorry," she yelped in surprise, jumping once again to the side. The wrong side. Away from the horse. Well...pony? Pony, she decided, but not a very short one, and not fat like Blizzard. And he was a goldish one. She scrunched up her face, trying to remember...palomino! That was what it was called! "Ooh, he's pretty," she said admiringly, jumping from topic to topic without even noticing. "And I'm Lissa." The final leap from threads of conversation to others was done with her eyes fixed on the pony, curiosity about the woman being secondary.