Welcome to Gaia! ::

On the day following Malikai’s first string of encounters at the Wymrith household, his mother’s business there was apparently not complete, and the morning sun found him on the front steps — again. Alone — again. This time, he moved straight for the servants’ quarters himself, not wanting anything to do with the resident children there except, possibly, Lady Laesara, though he wasn’t entirely clear if this was her house. The boys had referred to her as ‘cousin’ and a ‘guest’, which seemed to suggest to him that she was only visiting and likely not still present.

At first, his arrival in likely the busiest segment of the house was largely ignored, persons of all sorts bustling back and forth. After his first attempt to find his way into the kitchens, however, he was scooped out by one of the groundskeepers and — following a brief interrogation regarding who he was and what he was doing in the house to begin with — put to work.

“Son of a merchant or not, if you’re wanting to eat from the kitchens, you’ll do a day’s work just like everyone else. You’ve got a perfectly good set of hands on you, would be an insult to the goddess and her craftsmanship if you wasted them, come, come…”

And so it was that he spent the morning first cleaning, then dish washing, and eventually — by early afternoon — hauling. After he had been passed from the laundry staff to the kitchens to and then out again, one of the stable hands took him on, pointing him to a sack of stored grains manageable enough for even his small form to carry and directing him towards the main stables. Having never seen a hastar up close before, the idea excited him — certainly more than dish washing — and he readily moved to help.

He was flush-faced and panting by the time he made it in through the side entrance, only barely still keeping hold of the grain sack, when his eyes landed on the only other current occupant therein, hastars aside. His flush moved out to the stubby points of his ears, and he beamed inspite of himself.

“Lady Laesara! I—er, well…” He shifted the weight of the sack, suddenly uncertain on what precisely he was supposed to do with it now. The man had given him instructions, but they’d slipped his mind on seeing a familiar face. “G’morning t’ you,” he said, pushing the concern away for the moment and grinning sheepishly instead.

“Erm, well,” he said, shifting the weight of the sack and eventually letting it come to a rest at his feet. “My mum’s workin’ again t’day…I think she will, for several more. I figured I ought best try not t’ get into trouble again, so I went t’ the servants’ quarters first this mornin’, and tha’ was alright at first, but they pretty quickly set me to work…not that I really blame ‘em. I wasn’ doin’ much elsewise t’ begin with, so…I helped in the launder, and then th’ kitchen, and then a man from th’ stables said I should carry this here and help him with some liftin’, so I’m workin’ on that…”

He eyed her, rubbing at an elbow and then the back of his neck, tugging uncertainly at his rat-tail.

“Sorry if’n I’m interruptin’. I’ll um…I just need t’ remember where this was s’posed t’ go…were you…?” His gaze flicked to the hastars, a nervous bubble of excitement rising back up. “Were you out ridin’? Are these yours? Any of ‘em, tha’ is…” His attention settled on the one she’d been doting her attention on and his posture relaxed again, smile warming further still. “Tha’ one is beautiful…like you, if you were a hastar, just not quite as pretty.”

Malikai flushed pinkly. “It’s a lovely name. I…wasn’ so positive that I would see you again, so I didn’ figure bringin’ anythin’ that would crush or spoil was a good idea, but…” With his hands newly freed, he rustled into a small pouch at his belt, pulling out a small handful of carefully paper-wrapped hard candies. “These aren’t precisely her specialty, pardon me not bringin’ cakes, but she bakes ‘em in her own oven at our house…I help on occasion. It’d…be alright for a hastar t’ eat a candy?” he asked, stepping up uncertainly. “I wouldn’t want t’ give her a sore stomach, and…well…”

His eyes flit to Laesara dartingly — quick and hesitant — before dropping to his boots as he scuffed a toe against the dirt flooring.

“If’n they’re fit for a hastar, I’m not so sure they’re fit for you, Lady Lae, though I was hopin’ — thinkin’ — maybe, if’n you wanted one o’course, I did bring ‘em for you…” Abashed and unprepared to face her gaze if she sent him away right that moment, Malik took the opportunity to eye the hastar at closer range, a warm smile edging back up onto his features. “I’ve never been so close to one a’fore…it must be amazin’, t’ have somethin’ that powerful an’ lovely let you ride atop it…”

Malikai’s face warmed, blossoming into full bloom over the surface of his face at the compliment, simultaneously deeply pleased, and relieved, that she seemed to enjoy them. “You’re very welcome,” he murmured. “She’d be honored t’ know you liked ‘em…most honored. I—” His eyes widened at the offer, unmasked hope and eagerness taking over his expression in an instant. “You really think I could…? I’ve never…” But he edged forward even as he spoke, his voice quieting out to nothing when he got in closer range of the mare, stare large with awe.

He moved slowly, ever-so-hesitant not so much out of fear himself — foolish or not, he didn’t feel an ounce of fear of such a lovely creature, despite being well aware of her strength and power — but instead, a nervousness that a stray jerk or sudden motion would startle or upset her. He needn’t be told to be gentle, but the instruction washed over him, his entire focus on the mare when he made it in close enough to gradually offer up a palm. Initially, he received only a snort for his efforts. It was close enough, though, to tickle the inside of his hand, and inspired a giggle from him, which seemed to peak her interest, her ears flicking curiously at the sound.

“You’re a lovely lady, aren’ you?” he murmured to her, smiling and leaving his hand out, palm still up. “M’ sorry I don’ have anythin’ t’ feed you this time around…but it’s my greatest pleasure t’ make your acquaintance nonetheless…”

Liora eyed him, giving a curious shake of her head before snorting again lightly and dipping her snout to push it into his palm, light and investigative. Malik held his breath, watching and beaming, his insides giddy and wings — of their own regard — popping and puffing out to flutter in his excitement. When he reached to stroke his fingers up her snout, she allowed it, and he beamed, petting gently.

“She’s lettin’ me…”

So focused was he on the warmth and attention from the hastar that Malikai didn’t fully register, at first, the true weight of Laesara’s words. After but a moment, though, his eyes widened, a too-large untempered bubble of hope rising up even as he twisted around to eye her, expression half exuberant and half disbelieving.

“You mean it…? Really and truly, you could do tha’? Not at this house, y’don’ mean, since…?” Malikai flushed and shifted his weight uncertainly.

On the one hand, he could think of little he’d love more than to be provided an opportunity to learn to ride. On the other, given his brief share of treatment from just the other children of this house, he felt fairly certain the lord and lady of this manner had a high chance of not approving of a commoner riding their hastars.

“I would love it,” he said at length. “If’n there’d be a place I could where it’d be permitted, I’d love it an’ do anythin’ I could for you in turn, though…don’ have much, or any, in th’ way o’ coin. I could work, though…” He returned to trailing his fingers up Liora’s snout, the gesture calming — apparently for both of them. “And I’d have t’ tell my mum…but I’d love it.”