"A Kelvic you say?" Katelyn asked when Marrick's quiet conversation with the little dog fell on her ears. She smiled slightly and looked at the animal with new interest. They weren't all that uncommon--at least here at the Outpost--but still enough to be a great reason for curiosity. She knew with certainty there were a few wandering around here somewhere, but the redhead had only met one for sure that she knew of. A old farmhouse cat that turned into a rather quiet elderly woman and had been with one of the local families all her life.
Kate wondered what Patcha looked like on two legs instead of four, but Nivel was soon comfortable buried in her cloak and began a round of questions. Her smile broadened and she was happy for the Pycon's curiosity. She liked the odd looking little creature automatically.
"Very new," she answered. "I'm just your regular run of the mill Squire, yes, but I can't deny the subject of magic has me very curious. How long have you been studying?" The intrigue in her voice was obvious. Ser Whitevine was Marrick's Patron's twin brother, but both of them were your standard Knight. No magical abilities, no real knowledge of the arts aside from common hearsay and the basics. It was lucky of her to happen across the Mage-Squire like she had.
"I don't sew, no," Katelyn continued. "My mother does though, and quite well. I always wanted to learn but just never got around to it. I had other things that were keeping me occupied I guess. Maybe you can teach me sometime?" It was a genuine invitation, but as Marrick surged ahead of them at a fast gallop, Kate had to shift her concentration elsewhere. His little jibe made her bark a quick laugh, and the redhead let some slack into her reigns. Garrison was eager to follow and had been chomping excitedly on the bit. As soon as he felt the tension release in her posture, he lept forward and charged after the massive mare.
"I doubt you'd be able to out ride me now!" she yelled after the dark haired Squire, though her voice was caught by the harsh cold wind and carried off into the sky, leaving her mute. She had no doubts her stallion could devour the distance between them and their companions ahead, but with the miles they needed yet to ride, she didn't dare let him burn himself out. So when he tried to stretch out to full reach, she drew in some rein and tried to keep him steady. He snorted in time with the thundering of his hooves on thin crust of ice covering the snow, crunching the earth below and leaving deep gouges in the wet ground underneath.
One hand found its way to the interior pocket sewn into her cloak where the Pycon was nestled, and she held the little creature protectively for fear she might pop out and be lost in the warhorse's chase.
"Hang tight in there little one!" she ordered the Mage-Squire gently. Garrison galloped heavily along the wide tracks left by the field wagons and carts over the years, following the torn earth and scattered snow left by Marrick and Kiter ahead. He grunted loudly and sniffed the air in her wake, feeling his oats as stallions sometimes did around mares. Katelyn gave him a firm kick with her heels to take his mind of mounting, and let him gallop hard the rest of the way to the treeline that was quickly approaching.
They caught up to their companions not long before the orchard was upon them, and by then Garrison's mind was on catching his breath and not planting his unruly seed. She stroked his neck in praise and crooned quiet words to him as he walked to rest of the way to the gnarled trees, all heavy with the weight of winter. She had to agree with Marrick that it looked bleak and sad, and frowned at the branches around them. When he asked about the two of them, she suddenly remembered Nivel and peeked inside her cloak. The Pycon was safe and sound inside the warmth provided by the heavy fur lining her cloak.
"Of course we're alright." Katelyn smiled at her friend then, and gave him a challenging look. "Do you need a rest? No? Well good then. Moving on, shall we?" Her good-natured retort was light and filled with laughter, and once the horses were cooled back down she took the lead and let Garrison trot ahead of their fellow Squire. When they broke through the orchard and found themselves nearing the river though, Katelyn found herself growing more serious. Chunks of ice floated down the quickly moving frigid waters of the Avitar.
The crust it had accumulated was breaking free, leaving barriers of buildup and harsh rapids. There were sandbars that could make crossing easier, but she was worried more about the temperature of the water. She paused her stallion by the slope of the bank and listened to the rushing of the river, then glanced at Marrick.
"I think we'll be alright we cross quickly and keep to the shallows. Watch for the ice breaks and don't let the horses stop. Follow me," she said, and wasted no time urging Garrison down to the water's edge. He hesitated a moment but Kate gave him no time to dwell. She kicked him with her heels and startled him forward. As soon as his hooves were in the water, he quickly sloshed across the gap to the narrow shelf in the middle of the water, and canter across the second portion of water and eagerly climbed up the bank, spraying droplets in his wake.
Kiter was climbing out of the water almost directly after him, and once a quick examination was given to make sure the horses were fine, they were on their way again, eating away the distance to the hot springs with long-legged trots. The air was always a little warmer at the Sacred Arch, and she could hear the water several chimes before the springs came in sight. She would have sagged with relief if Garrison didn't suddenly stop, nearly sending her forward over his head. He stood still and rigid, head high and ears forward, snorting nervously and peering into the trees. Her stomach twisted instantly, and when Nivel spoke a sudden warning, she made to turn the stallion before he reared in fright.
"Whoa!" she urged the warhorse, trying to calm him as he crashed back down on his front legs, jostling her and Nivel violently. He turned in a frantic circle, snorting and whinnying nervously when she heard a low rumble coming up from over top of a nearby rock tumble. Claws clicked on the snow powdered stone, and a large russet wolf crested the top of the formation, peering down at them with hungry yellow eyes. It looked a little thin--probably not enough to eat this winter--and when its jaws opened she saw rows of discolored teeth and a large red tongue. Her stopped for a moment before continuing its pounding at a fearful, violent rate.
"Marrick?" she asked tremulously. "I think we should go. Now."
OOCLong one!
Kate wondered what Patcha looked like on two legs instead of four, but Nivel was soon comfortable buried in her cloak and began a round of questions. Her smile broadened and she was happy for the Pycon's curiosity. She liked the odd looking little creature automatically.
"Very new," she answered. "I'm just your regular run of the mill Squire, yes, but I can't deny the subject of magic has me very curious. How long have you been studying?" The intrigue in her voice was obvious. Ser Whitevine was Marrick's Patron's twin brother, but both of them were your standard Knight. No magical abilities, no real knowledge of the arts aside from common hearsay and the basics. It was lucky of her to happen across the Mage-Squire like she had.
"I don't sew, no," Katelyn continued. "My mother does though, and quite well. I always wanted to learn but just never got around to it. I had other things that were keeping me occupied I guess. Maybe you can teach me sometime?" It was a genuine invitation, but as Marrick surged ahead of them at a fast gallop, Kate had to shift her concentration elsewhere. His little jibe made her bark a quick laugh, and the redhead let some slack into her reigns. Garrison was eager to follow and had been chomping excitedly on the bit. As soon as he felt the tension release in her posture, he lept forward and charged after the massive mare.
"I doubt you'd be able to out ride me now!" she yelled after the dark haired Squire, though her voice was caught by the harsh cold wind and carried off into the sky, leaving her mute. She had no doubts her stallion could devour the distance between them and their companions ahead, but with the miles they needed yet to ride, she didn't dare let him burn himself out. So when he tried to stretch out to full reach, she drew in some rein and tried to keep him steady. He snorted in time with the thundering of his hooves on thin crust of ice covering the snow, crunching the earth below and leaving deep gouges in the wet ground underneath.
One hand found its way to the interior pocket sewn into her cloak where the Pycon was nestled, and she held the little creature protectively for fear she might pop out and be lost in the warhorse's chase.
"Hang tight in there little one!" she ordered the Mage-Squire gently. Garrison galloped heavily along the wide tracks left by the field wagons and carts over the years, following the torn earth and scattered snow left by Marrick and Kiter ahead. He grunted loudly and sniffed the air in her wake, feeling his oats as stallions sometimes did around mares. Katelyn gave him a firm kick with her heels to take his mind of mounting, and let him gallop hard the rest of the way to the treeline that was quickly approaching.
They caught up to their companions not long before the orchard was upon them, and by then Garrison's mind was on catching his breath and not planting his unruly seed. She stroked his neck in praise and crooned quiet words to him as he walked to rest of the way to the gnarled trees, all heavy with the weight of winter. She had to agree with Marrick that it looked bleak and sad, and frowned at the branches around them. When he asked about the two of them, she suddenly remembered Nivel and peeked inside her cloak. The Pycon was safe and sound inside the warmth provided by the heavy fur lining her cloak.
"Of course we're alright." Katelyn smiled at her friend then, and gave him a challenging look. "Do you need a rest? No? Well good then. Moving on, shall we?" Her good-natured retort was light and filled with laughter, and once the horses were cooled back down she took the lead and let Garrison trot ahead of their fellow Squire. When they broke through the orchard and found themselves nearing the river though, Katelyn found herself growing more serious. Chunks of ice floated down the quickly moving frigid waters of the Avitar.
The crust it had accumulated was breaking free, leaving barriers of buildup and harsh rapids. There were sandbars that could make crossing easier, but she was worried more about the temperature of the water. She paused her stallion by the slope of the bank and listened to the rushing of the river, then glanced at Marrick.
"I think we'll be alright we cross quickly and keep to the shallows. Watch for the ice breaks and don't let the horses stop. Follow me," she said, and wasted no time urging Garrison down to the water's edge. He hesitated a moment but Kate gave him no time to dwell. She kicked him with her heels and startled him forward. As soon as his hooves were in the water, he quickly sloshed across the gap to the narrow shelf in the middle of the water, and canter across the second portion of water and eagerly climbed up the bank, spraying droplets in his wake.
Kiter was climbing out of the water almost directly after him, and once a quick examination was given to make sure the horses were fine, they were on their way again, eating away the distance to the hot springs with long-legged trots. The air was always a little warmer at the Sacred Arch, and she could hear the water several chimes before the springs came in sight. She would have sagged with relief if Garrison didn't suddenly stop, nearly sending her forward over his head. He stood still and rigid, head high and ears forward, snorting nervously and peering into the trees. Her stomach twisted instantly, and when Nivel spoke a sudden warning, she made to turn the stallion before he reared in fright.
"Whoa!" she urged the warhorse, trying to calm him as he crashed back down on his front legs, jostling her and Nivel violently. He turned in a frantic circle, snorting and whinnying nervously when she heard a low rumble coming up from over top of a nearby rock tumble. Claws clicked on the snow powdered stone, and a large russet wolf crested the top of the formation, peering down at them with hungry yellow eyes. It looked a little thin--probably not enough to eat this winter--and when its jaws opened she saw rows of discolored teeth and a large red tongue. Her stopped for a moment before continuing its pounding at a fearful, violent rate.
"Marrick?" she asked tremulously. "I think we should go. Now."
OOCLong one!