56th Day of Spring, year 512AV Ishara stood at the main gate to Santuary, her hands on the freshly shaped wood. The smell of sawdust permeated the air, mixing with the sweet, musky scent of horses and hay. They'd been rebuilding as much as the rest of Riverfall, though the traces of the storm were harder to pinpoint, now. You had to know what you were looking for. And that was the problem, wasn't it? With so many repairs to be done and help needed all over the city, Ishara had encountered odd jobs and a day's meals by simply offering her help. Now that the number of those jobs had diminished, and the more complex ones being taken up by skilled artisans, it was no longer necessary to employ some one for clean-up duty. Particularly a small-statured woman. Lifting her chin as though indignant at the very thought that she should be considered too small for any job, Ishara moved past the gates, the pale shadow of her sighthound sticking close to her heels. Raj could scent the presence of many other canines, their boundaries were marked, and trespassing made the silkena anxious. The sun was just over the horizon, a bright disc on a clear sky. As the light slanted into the courtyard, it ignited the dust kicked up by a horse in the roundpen. The animal was pacing, to an fro, head raised and nostrils wide as it drank in the cool morning air and expelled it in a shuddering gust. Ishara smiled, admiring the way the horse moved. His step was delicate, despite his heavy build, and she could not help but imagine what her brothers would have to say about the horse's breeding background and purpose just upon sight of it. She did not have their knack for analyzation...but she could appreciate a beautiful animal all the same. Her tongue popped against the roof of her mouth as she neared, clucking softly, and the horse's ears pirouteted in her direction, followed by it's liquid eyes. She reached the side of the round pen and stood there, her body turned three-quarters and her eyes averted in an effort to tempt the animal to inspect her. This was how her brothers taught her to approach their horses, to invite one's self into their space...and it almost always worked. The horse pivoted towards her, took two steps...then tossed his head up, snorting. Ishara grinned, following his gaze, and gestured for Raj to back off. The silkena reluctantly slunk off to curl up by a watering trough, uneasy but obedient to his master's wishes. The horse watched this interaction, stamping a foot impatiently as indecision warred within him. Curiosity won out, however...and he lowered his head, stretching out his bristly nose to wuffle at Ishara's sleeve. "See? Not so very bad..." |