Late Winter, 515 AV
The young Denusk horse shifted, snorting, as Kavala maneuvered it with her knees. The Konti was down riding along the Bluevein River looking for all the world like she was searching for something lost. She wasn’t, in truth, though the warhorse was indeed losing patience that he didn’t possess to begin with. “Let’s hurry. Want to run.” He muttered under his breath causing Kavala to react. The Konti shifted in a nearly invisible simultaneously action of the hand, seat and legs to capture the stallion's attention in a half halt. He corrected his balance which was falling out from under Kavala and started paying more attention. The Konti bent him in a travers maneuver, around her inside leg so he was looking upriver in the direction they were traveling. His legs crossed slightly, his outside legs passing in front of the inside legs. She moved him into a canter to get this done, automatically making the young horse’s mind busy enough to stop letting his attention waver.
The Healer often took out young horses on these types of errands. It was good for their minds to get out and about in the world without the four walls of the arena closing in. Arena work was great for core skills, but in the wilds with changing terrain and conditions from minute to minute was everything. They were looking at the riparian areas along the river, searching the shadowy dampness for the fly trap plants that graced the area. Kavala corrected the horse again, shifting the Denusk into renvers so it was flexing opposite of how it had been under travers. Kavala half halted and then brought the horse to a stop when she thought she spotted what the Konti was looking for. Slipping off the young stallion, she placed a hand on his forehead and whispered “Stand.” Then Kavala smiled as he lipped at her hand, throwing his head in the air and snorting. “Guard.” She gave in, knowing the young stallion didn’t want to hold absolutely still. The Konti didn’t blame him. It wasn’t quite spring yet, but the air sure felt like it. The horse, whom she called Music, snorted to clear his nose of a fly and looked right at her. He spoke softly.
“Glad I got chosen to come. I’ll guard. Make sure no one comes without you getting my warning.” He said, turning slowly in a circle. His big size didn’t inhibit him at all. The horse was as flexible as he could be. Music should have been, she’d been working on his flexation since he was foaled.
“Thank you.” Kavala said quietly then turned to scurry down the embankment, looking for what she’d thought she’d glimpsed from his back. Sure enough, sliding to a stop down on the wet fringes of the river. A profusion of the fly traps grew, their hungry maws open with sticky jaws, sweet rotten scents luring insects to their sudden doom.
Kavala knelt and began to collect them. It was their scent the Konti healer was interested in using in the philter, needing something to lure the flies to the trap. It was, remarkable enough, the same scent that warned honeybees away. So if Kavala included this component in her philter, she could make the sticky mite board as well as the philtered fly paper from the same substance and not worry that the bees would get caught on the mite board.