Roughrider (Open)

[Fenris Hood]

29th of Summer 510 AV - Dawn


The slow slope of grass was culled downward by the wave of it’s length, as if the trickster wind teased the earth’s bowing mane. A newly woken horse agreed, feeling the tickle of a cold breeze run along the wither of it’s spine. The bard didn’t ride her with a yvas, nor any reigns at all. He preferred matched company and the responsive touch of earning credence. A choice Cassidy made of her own unfettered will, so on those days Fenris woke up under the furs with a maiden and the strider was no where to be found.. didn’t matter. Let the creature run free and return should the company keep.

Yet in truth, there were boundaries, means of response, a lasso if it were. All relationships had them, some preferred them in the open, others held restraint. Who needed who, and who needed a long walk. The steel drum of Hood’s chest beat silent and proper. He stroked her mane gently, digging his heels in enough to manifest that earlier said response. “Good girl.”

The woman beneath the blankets was never roused as he left the pavilion, while her scent still lingered on the sling of his tartan. That cunning wind, always calling him on, furthering his goals and cleansing his palette. She was his first love, but Cassidy was the lady he trusted. That fitted a smile upon the callous lips of the old Drykas, as a playfully jealous response flirted through his beard and graying locks. They were all tied back, but a braid or two listened to her breeze. These grasslands were immeasurable in space, deeper then an ocean and filled with more beauty, sorrow, mystery and rapture then ever been found beneath the ready sheets. They might as very well be the last thing he held and that was of some absolute comfort indeed.

“Now lass, I need to stretch me legs, so how bout you run for me and we catch with that storm ahead.”

The animal bucked it’s shoulders at the very thought, but Fenris’s response was shed over his tongue.

“You’re right. I do indeed need a good shower.” Gripping the horse’s neck firmly Hood’s throat growled out a rousing morning boon.

“YEHAAA!”

They sped forth with all fury and lark as two veritable friends could, bound in matched joy and a steadfast appreciation of the damningly important things in life. Riding into the sparks of falling rain, it was like a sheet of endless wistful color, washing the very meeting of everything between them but the ground 'neath their feet.