25th of Spring, 515 AV
morning
morning
Isolde had grown up with horses. She remembered doing chores... picking their hooves, mucking the stalls, laying straw, filling buckets of water and feed, letting them out to graze, grooming and brushing, fitting tack...
And yet, somehow, when she tried to think exactly how to do these things, she couldn't remember. The details had long faded into nothing, or so near nothing it was hardly useful. Maybe with some simple explanation her memory would come back. But the fact that it wasn't there to start with, for something that had been so integral to her life growing up... well, that was a little startling, and more than a little dismaying. It was with a set, anxious face that Isolde approached the stables.
As it turned out, she needed a horse. She had joined the Knights, for ill or good --hopefully, almost certainly her decision had been a good one-- and as such she was expected to learn to ride. This wouldn't normally be a problem, it wasn't like she was afraid of the animals... except it turned out that most of them were afraid of her. When the Nuit had gotten near the usual horses used for training squires they'd shied away, one even rearing in panic back onto its hind legs. The stablemaster had muttered under her breath and sent Isolde away.
After some conference with her patron, a decision had been made: Isolde would purchase her own horse, and if necessary supply or pay for extra training, putting in as many hours as necessary so that the animal wouldn't spook when near her.
At first they had wanted to go with one of the Knight-approved breeds --a Tiaden, Nightwalker, or Sungold-- but all of them had been very expensive to risk on failure. So they'd decided to let her go with a cheaper, hopefully serviceable breed called Paintedmount, and her Sera had already chosen the horse, promising that the Nuit and equine would be a good match. Now all there was was for Isolde to actually make the payment to buy the beast, and then to slowly and surely get to know her. If things didn't work out... she supposed she'd have to report to the Knighthood and see what could be done about it. Probably she'd have to resell the horse and buy another, until they found a workable fit.
It was as Isolde was approaching the three barns that made up Windmount Stables that she noticed a young woman, leaning against one of the nearby fences, looking as nervous as Isolde felt. The Nuit halted abruptly, squinting to see if her bleary, aged eyes were playing tricks on her, as her vision in this body wasn't the sharpest... but, taking a step closer, she saw that her first appraisal had been right. Isolde felt a throb of emotion, something like shock and gladness mixed together. Shiress. She couldn't believe it. It was Shiress. She hadn't seen her in... well, it had been a long time. Seasons, even. A year? Almost two?
Without thinking, Isolde detoured that way, until she was standing just in front and to the side of the young lady, not too close but comfortable for conversion. At first she didn't know what to say, and she stood, swinging her arms and then folding them in front of her and fidgeting with her fingers like a child. What felt like a long time passed though it was probably only a couple of ticks. Eventually, the Nuit managed to say, "Heya, Shiress. It's... It's Isolde. I know I don't look the same as I did the last time we met, but... remember me?"
She swallowed, wondering if the girl would recall. Isolde really did look different than she had before; last time she'd been in a young body, very young, with dark hair piled under a hood. Now the hood remained, but the clothes had changed, as had the body-- this one was silver-haired and almost grandmotherly. Somehow Isolde had come to feel more comfortable in this body than the others. Probably it had to do with the woman's age when she'd died. She had lived her life; it didn't seem so bad to borrow from someone who had likely died content.
