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 Posted: Tue Nov 06, 2012 6:32 pm
It was a pleasantly peaceful day for Pyotr. No work was taking up his time and no spoilt, rich buffoons were demanding his attention. Better yet, he had arrived just in time for the harvest fair.
Few in the hustle and bustle and general good cheer of the crowded streets would look twice at the tall young man with an eye on for horseflesh. A lady might notice his better-than-average looks, a soldier might notice the bit of weaponry he carried, but there were enough men like him on the coast that he raised no brows. Strolling through the crowds, he might stop at this pen or that corral to look over the animals and offer them his palm for inspection.
In general, the animals seemed to like him. The feeling was mutual, but it might give the false impression that he cared equally as much about people. Or worse, one might mistake him for a good person, which he most assuredly was not. However, he sought no trouble this day. Although Gorapesnya had elected not to join him - the rabbit did not particularly like crowds - Pyotr was simply looking to enjoy a brief respite from his usual pursuits. So, he stopped at yet another of the seemingly endless corrals and began the task of enticing one of the more reluctant horses.
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Posted: Tue Nov 06, 2012 8:58 pm
Svetlana was excited today and Bella Morte felt it as Sveta cleaned up the mare and bridled her. Sveta hoped up onto the large mare's back without saddle and rode off towards town. Today there was a fair and she was looking into getting another horse. Bella Morte's foal, Aisling, was only a year old and not yet old enough to perform, leaving her with only one grown animal to perform and pull the wagon.
They got to the fair before the worst of the crowd and Sveta dismounted and lead the mare to a hitching pole for horse NOT for sale. She gave the mare a look and said "Behave yourself." Bella Morte snored and shook her head. Svetlana could only roll her eyes and headed into the main part of the fair towards the horses.
Strolling around the pens she glanced this way and that. She stopped every now and then to pat an animal in greeting but none caught her eye. Farther in however she came to a pen with several vanners, drum and cobs. All gypsy of course. She grinned from ear to ear and approached the pen.
"Ya interested in them 'orses?" a gruff man asked.
Svetlana paused and eyed the man before nodding. "Yes. May I take a closer look?"
The man nodded and stepped aside and she hopped the gate and approached the lot. They where a bit muddy but that's to be expected at the fair. Most where paints and a few where solids, they had full manes and tails, and great feathering. She picked out one and deftly began checking teeth, ears, eyes, feet, and so on. She clearly knew what she was doing.
((Whoa...a bit long x.x sorry about that!))
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Posted: Wed Nov 07, 2012 5:32 pm
It took patience and effort, but at last the antisocial creature danced her way over to him, going so far as to nudge his palm with her velvet nose. Pyotr rubbed her cheek, which she seemed to enjoy, and muttered praises for her in his native tongue.
His attention was eventually caught by a woman who clambered into the pen like an old hand. He watched as she looked one of the herd over, and was both amused and impressed when she proved more competent than some of the recruits he had worked with when he first joined the cavalry. But that part of his life was in the past and, as far as he could tell, would remain there. It was better that way.
Regardless, the man's idle interest was enough that he spoke to her.
"That one is steady," he observed, commenting on the horse she was looking over. He may spent the last while communing with the reluctant mare now demanding more attention from him, but he had not been blind to the rest of the herd, either.
"Strong. He might bend in the wind, but he will not break."
((No worries. I've written longer. XD))
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Posted: Wed Nov 07, 2012 10:37 pm
She finished looking over the horse, finding it sound. She gave it a solid pat on the shoulder when she heard a male voice, the accent of her homeland, coming from behind her. She turned slightly to see a tall, and yes, dark and handsome man. He was showing attention to a rather needy but shy mare.
"This one sure is," she said, her gaze direct and rather piercing with it's strange pale color. Her brows lowered a bit as she took a closer look at the man. He looked awfully like another family member of her's and the fact that he had a Belestranian accent made her suddenly wary.
Svetlana's body language spoke volumes that she was now in fight or flight mode, more flight than anything. She moved around to study another horse but found it to be a gelding and moved on to another of the herd. She kept the man in her line of sight as she checked out a fine black and white mare with good confirmation and health. She got the mare to open her mouth and checked the teeth to find that she was young.
"I'll take this one," Svetlana said to the gruff man suddenly.
He smiled at her, "Ahh, good choice, she be a fine mare and good stock too."
Svetlana paid him, freed the mare's rope and with help from the gruff man, lead the mare out of the corral. The mare was docile, willing, and affectionate as she was nuzzled by the large animal.
But once out of the pen and situated, Svetlana was faced with the man again. The man that made her a little nervous, she certainly hoped he wasn't sent by her family to hunt her down. That would be bad.
(( Think I'm getting the hang of this. Haven't really done rp like this in years x.x ))
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2012 11:51 am
Pyotr stared at the woman for a moment, wondering about her sudden defensive behavior. He had said nothing untoward, but she had not reacted to his presence at all until he spoke. Perhaps she was on the run? Though from what, he could not guess. She hardly looked like the type to cause trouble, though she did look as though she could get into it. He had no idea what it was about him that caused her to react so. However, had no particular desire to learn of her situation, either, so he decided to ignore it unless it became an issue.
It seemed to be the woman's turn to stare. Once free of the pen, she seemed reluctant to so much as move past him. It was amusing, if a little ridiculous. Still lounging against the fence, absently stroking the needy mare's neck, he raised a brow at her. "Something I can help you with?"
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2012 10:12 pm
She'd finally gained the nerve to move past him, her hand firmly on the mare's lead rope. But his voice froze her again and she gazed up at him. It was clear now that her behavior didn't go unnoticed and she wondered why. Suddenly she grew angry with herself. She was acting like some scared little girl and that wasn't the sheltered girl who ran away from her overbearing parents and the suitor that was to be her husband. It wasn't the girl who joined a circus and became a trick rider, doing daring and dangerous tricks on a fast moving thousand pound animal.
Svetlana raised her chin and straightened her spine. "Help me? Are you selling horses, Sir?" she asked letting her Belestranian accent soak through the words. Her otherworldly gaze held fire in the depths as she looked at him. All this time she had been sizing him up and preparing for any outcome.
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Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2012 10:50 am
Really, he was at a loss. First she was defensive, now she was full of bluster. He was certain that he had done nothing to her before, nor was he planning on anything now. It did not escape his notice, however, that what had been only a faint trace before was now a thick Belastranan accent. Was she offended that his voice carried the same? Did their shared country also hold shared memories that were less than pleasant? He hardly cared either way, but it was a bit ridiculous.
"Clearly not," he replied mildly. Piercing gaze or not, he remained unfazed. His own eyes were similar in color, and he was hardly the type to be intimidated by appearances, anyway. "But you seem to have taken an interest in me regardless. I was wondering why." The corner of his mouth quirked. "Something I can help you with?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2012 9:18 pm
Her brows raised a fraction and she leaned onto one foot, her free hand on her hip. The mare beside her shifted and lowered her head, before rubbing her cheek on Svetlana's shoulder. Sveta paid the mare no mind except for a pat. She eyed the man for a moment longer before saying anything.
"I don't think I should really say. You're no more than a stranger to me...at least I hope so," she began, "So I don't really see what you can help me with."
She'd barely finished her sentence when a commotion started up near the entrance to the fair. A high pitch whinny followed by some very horsey sounds of disapproval echoed over the crowd. People started to gather and look to see what caused the ruckus.
Svetlana let out a loud sigh. "Oh you've got to be kidding me," she cried out with exasperation. "Come on," she said to the mare, "We've best be going before someone gets hurt...that wouldn't be a good thing for me."
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 4:28 pm
So she was a cautious one, too. Not that her decision made a difference one way or the other to him. He was unlikely to help her in any case. He had only asked out of curiosity as to why she was so wary of him.
"Your decision," he commented, but her attention was already set on the ruckus near the entrance. Curious despite himself, he elected to follow her and see just what was going on and what her stake was in it all.
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 4:39 pm
Svetlana got to the fair entrance only to find Bella Morte, the source of the ruckus. Turns out Bella Morte didn't like a couple men, boys really, because they seem to take a keen interest in the mare. An interest that wasn't entirely nice and Bella Morte was more than happy to teach them a lesson. Which isn't always a good thing for an animal to do in a crowd of people but Bella is the type to not care.
"Hey!" Svetlana found herself calling out. "You leave my horse alone! Go find something more productive to do."
Fearlessly, Sveta walked right up to the hysterical mare and grabbed her reins. The mare was lashing a hoof out towards one of the boys just as Sveta jerked her away. "And you, calm down..." she practically growled at the mare. Bella Morte eyed Sveta with the look of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. But this wasn't the end of it. The boys decided they wheren't done.
"Oi!" one called out, "You call that nag a horse. Just some Gypsy trash if you ask me." His mates all started laughing. One picked up a rock and was about to chuck it at Svetlana.
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 6:45 pm
The boy did not get very far, however, as he was ignominiously picked up by his scruff and lifted to meet a pair of very cold, very cruel eyes. In general, he might not care about the practices of a pack of boys, but Pyotr took personal offense to any mistreatment of animals.
"You might consider learning some manners, boy," he suggested mildly. It was perhaps more disturbing that he seemed so outwardly calm while his eyes clearly showed his displeasure than it would have been if he had simply yelled or smacked the boy. "They would do you some good."
The unfortunate thing about boys, however, was that if they were in front of a crowd of their friends, they were even more compelled to acts of blustering stupidity than they would be when alone. So, Pyotr gave the boy a firm shake as though he were a naughty puppy and turned that disconcerting gaze to the other boys.
Though he might at first glance appear to be just another man, even a small peek under his mask would reveal something much darker. Surely enough to suitably frighten an unruly group of boys. Though they might think to go after a gypsy, even a gypsy man, Pyotr was clearly of a more dangerous ilk. Though he was not dressed for bear, he still looked like what he was: a warrior.
"I suggest you all go and review your manners before you find yourselves in trouble."
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Posted: Tue Nov 13, 2012 2:12 pm
The group of boys stared open mouthed at the man holding their buddy with ease. Svetlana even stared at him with wide eyes as she held her mares close to her. Bella Morte sensed her distress and was nuzzling her human gently. She was still staring at him, her eyes held caution and a wariness towards him, as the boys took off. Of course they glared at her and one was still bold enough to spit at her and call "Gypsy filth!" before following the others. She bore him only a slight glance, still wide eyed, before returning her gaze to the strange man.
Bella Morte bumped her arm and she looked up at the mare. "Say thank you to man, my beauty." The mare looked at the man and gave him a dirty look and snorted before looking away as if bored. He took her fun away, well they both did, but she could have taken on those boys.
Svetlana shrugged at the man. "I'm sorry, she doesn't like anyone except me. But I'll say thank you for her. Despite what those boys say, I only have gypsy horses, but I'm not a gypsy." She moved the lead rope and reins of the mares into one hand and offered the other to him. "Thank you," she said but there was a slight tremor in her voice that she was fighting to stamp out completely, "This is Belle Morte and I'm Svetlana Volkova."
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Posted: Wed Nov 14, 2012 3:46 pm
Pyotr released his captive and watched them flee, narrowing his eyes at the last one's impertinence. However, he made no move to follow. Perhaps they would think twice before going after animals again, but he would not hold his breath on it. He looked back at the woman when she spoke, and the surly mare's attitude made his lips twitch. He could sympathize.
"No need to apologize for her. I have one with a similar temperament," he said dismissively. Of course, his was an ornery rabbit, but the sentiment applied regardless.
He took the proffered hand and raised it to his lips in a chaste greeting. A quiet noise of amusement escaped him at her name, however. Would ironies never cease. "Pyotr Volkov, at your service."
The surname was not particularly common, but neither was it especially rare. Still, to meet someone with the same surname in a foreign country was certainly a strange coincidence. The thought briefly crossed his mind that she could be of the noble Volkov line. There were so many of them that he had never bothered memorizing all of their names. However, he quickly dismissed the thought. It was unlikely, and even if she was, it was no concern of his.
Still, he had to wonder at her continued wariness of him. What was she so afraid of?
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Posted: Wed Nov 14, 2012 10:27 pm
Svetlana's gaze widen a bit as he gave her hand a kiss in the proper greeting of the higher classes. She couldn't help her cheeks reddening, whether in embarrassment or a simple girlish reaction, she didn't know. "Oh, I haven't had my hand taken like that in a long time. Usually people just shake it..." But whatever else she might have said choked her and pulled her hand away quickly.
"Volkov?!" Now she couldn't hold back her tongue anymore. She introduced herself using her given name and this is what she gets. "Did my father send you to fetch me back? If so you can leave empty handed. I'm not going back! That life smothered me and I shan't take it anymore." She kept her voice low but couldn't keep the harshness from it. The man could easily take her, although he'd have a very ill tempered mare to contend with.
Quickly, Svetlana moved away from him. The new mare raised her head, sensing the sudden change in the human holding her lead rope while Belle Morte glared at the man who caused her human distress. She let out a loud whinny and snapped her teeth. Svetlana kept the mares back, well Bella back, as she watched him and trying to read him.
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Posted: Thu Nov 15, 2012 1:53 pm
Shake it? He rarely shook a woman's hand. It was in poor taste. There were many facets to the complicated man, and many of those were worn as masks to hide the truth of him. The most basic of those masks were simple manners. It was rather difficult to blend in with society if one did not possess proper manners, and his mother had made certain he knew them all. It was only polite to greet a woman thus. If she happened to become flustered from it, well, that was hardly his fault.
Pyotr had to admit, he was surprised by the vehemence of her reaction to a simple introduction. It was not the sort of response he usually received from simply saying his name, even if part of it was shared. However, it seemed to be his surname that had startled her and it did not take long for him to figure out why. At the very least, he now knew which Volkovs she claimed as kin.
He had heard tell of a kidnapped noblewoman. Hardly surprising in the current political climate of Belastrana, but it was still a point of interest and Pyotr did like to keep tabs on what was going on in his home country. It looked like this particular rumor was incorrect, however. The feisty woman did not appear to have been kidnapped, but he would bet good money she had run away. Right now, however, he was seriously beginning to question her intelligence.
"I'm afraid I've never met your father," he said easily, straightening and keeping half an eye on the mare. "Nor do I have any plans to return to Belastrana anytime soon, especially not with someone as vocal as you in tow. Though I have to say, if you were planning on remaining in hiding, you should have changed your name. Any halfway competent man should have no trouble finding you right now."
He looked her up and down, taking a better look at features that would appear at home in court finery, now that he thought of it. "The missing bride, I assume."
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