Before he could actually wrap his head around what it was she was asking of him an answer slipped softly from his maw.
“Yes.”
He had just agreed to teach a mare the old fighting ways of knights. A little red flag raised itself in his mind but he pushed it aside. At the moment he wasn’t thinking about anything other than the fact that he had just agreed to take this task upon his shoulders. What had possessed him to do such a thing?
“Come, I shall take you home.” He stated absentmindedly.
As they began walking his thoughts were consumed as he struggled to find why such an answer had passed his lips. Glancing at her from the corner of his eyes he tried to imagine her features twisted in rage and bloodlust. He would not underestimate her but he couldn’t image such a face looking anything less than serene. The way the sun lit her soft face, how the breeze gently shifted her amber mane. He was utterly unable to image a killing spirit buried beneath such marvels. Taking note that his gaze had perhaps lingered to long he quickly snapped his attention to the road ahead of them. It was peculiar; the sound of eight hooves striking the ground was comforting. It had been a very long time since he had someone walking by his side.
The sound of birds singing into the stormy air diverted his attention momentarily. Sucking in a deep breath he looked at the large gray clouds accumulating overhead. Some of them in shapes that he was able to recognize from days long passed. He could see a falcon with its wings expanding in both directions, a sword, and the blaze of a fire burning in the heavens. The forked tongues of the flames caused a sharp pain to shoot through his chest. Lowering his eyes to the soil beneath his feet he fought to bury the feeling.
In silence time seemed to pass unbearably slow, but it did pass. He was surprised to find that she was able to remain silent as long as she had. Most of the mares he had encountered found it necessary to plague him with their constant babbling. He found himself pondering whether or not the lack of conversation was due to her irritation with him. She didn’t seem irked but he had met many who could hide it well. Diagnosing his own silence he realized it was because of comfort. He had only felt such comfort once before and it was with someone he had cared deeply for. Again glancing at Bella he found himself unable to look away. There was just something in the way that she moved that captivated him. Shaking his head with a grunt he attempted to get a hold of himself. He was just escorting the lady who he had, indirectly, dumped into a stream. Even so, the quiet was beginning to allow him time to slip into his own thoughts. Clearing his throat he looked off into the tree line on his side of the path.
“How is your leg fairing?”
It wasn’t polite not to look into the eyes of the person one was conversing with but Callan feared that his eyes may remain too long. It was not the best question to ask if he was trying to make amends but it was the only thing that came to him. He hadn’t realized that his social skills were so terribly rusty until this moment. He wasn’t a very outgoing stallion; therefore, he didn’t really speak to anyone. Thinking back he began to scold himself for not at least trying to remain somewhat civil. Swishing his tail in irritation he snorted quietly and remembered that someone else was present. Now was no time to chastise oneself about things that could not be changed.
“What I mean to ask is, if the journey is too strenuous on you?”
That question wasn’t much better.
