Rhona wasn't totally sure why or when she had ended up in the animal stables, but there she was. Alois cawed from overhead, hidden somewhere in the dark rafters no doubt planning something. But she was here and in her hand was a feeding bucket so that must have been what she was there to do... right? Something hazy and strange clouded Rhona's mind and it was difficult to tell what, exactly, had transpired to bring her to this place. She must have been tired and was moving on autopilot, not really thinking while she finished up her conversations in the main tent and then wandered over here to... feed the horses...

She would just need to get more sleep.

She shook the confusion form her mind and scooped a healthy serving of oats into the pail to feed the first horse in line (in truth probably more than she should have... but no one was here to tell her no so...). As the disorientation melted from Rhona's mind, she felt more at ease in herself. Yes. Sleep was what she needed. Nevermind that the show was meant to start any minute and she should probably be at the main tent... her act wasn't until the middle of a two-hour show. She had time to feed these wonderful creatures.

The first horse, one of four beautiful white stallions, huffed his approval as he ate his dinner, allowing his nose and face to be stroked adoringly by the woman who was feeding them. In truth, Rhona had always felt more at home around the animals. Something about how sweet and kind they were. No animal ever hurt another animal out of spite or malice. It was only ever a reaction out of fear... and who can really blame them? No, they were the last vestiges of innocence in the world and maybe that was what endeared them to Rhona so greatly. Mischief, perhaps. She had been nudged by the horses and larger animals and fallen over more than once, that was was just because they didn’t understand how large they were and how small she was. It had been all in good fun and Rhona could never hold that against them.

Maybe a good brush would do this big boy some good. Not that he needed it but… it certainly wouldn’t hurt…

Rhona reached up to where the brush was supposed to be and her hand closed around something totally foreign. She couldn’t really register what it was that she was holding for a long moment. A handle of sorts, but the brush didn’t have a handle. The handle was wrapped in leather straps and felt well worn… Rhona pulled the object off of the hook the brush usually hang from and stared.

A… a riding crop?

To the best of her knowledge, the horsemasters didn’t use these… so what was one doing in the stables? And hanging where the brush was supposed to be?

Something slammed into Rhona with a palpable force, stealing her vision from her and forcing her out of her own body.

This isn’t right. You don’t belong here.

Inky black wings enveloped her, stealing her breath and sparking something far more vicious than she had ever known to life in her gut. Something acrid and wildly terrified tore through her, wailing and tearing it’s own voice out while leaving a wildfire in its wake. When she came to again an instant later (though it had felt so much longer) Rhona was left with the lingering feeling that something was terribly terribly wrong. A feeling worse that not belonging, it was a feeling of complete and utter displacement. Like she was in the wrong time, the wrong place… the wrong body.

Rhona looked around for something to anchor herself to. To prove to herself that she wasn’t as utterly out of place as she had thought. Overhead, Alois called out for her once before swooping down to grab at a lock of her hair and then vanish into the darkness overhead. Had that been her sign that everything was alright? She searched the darkness for his shape but found nothing and still the feeling clung to her bones.

Feed the horses… yes… feed the horses.

Cling to your routine Rhona Lee. Cling to your normal. Cling to what you know. She move automatically, removing the feed bag from the stallion’s muzzle and filling it back up to feed the next horse in line. Number two of five brilliant white stallions. He huffed as well and began munching as Rhona reached for another feedbag to feel the other four white horses in the stables. But when she turned the feedbags were gone. She was sure that they were all kept on a hook above the crates of oats… right? She turned back to the stables, eyes wandering down the whole row, a herd of pure white stallions and Rhona knew them all by name. And they were hungry. They needed to be fed.

A reflection of light caught Rhona’s eye… the feedbags? How had they gotten over by the elephants? Carelessly flung after a hurried dinner last night, perhaps? A prank by one of the stable keepers? Not that it mattered, Rhona had found the bags and she needed to feed a whole herd of beautiful ink-black stallions, so she wandered over, still trying to shake the feeling of fundamental wrongness from her skin.

Wait… the reflection had come from right here… hadn’t it? Light playing off of a metal rivet, right? And yet when she approached she saw nothing. Only a proud and docile elephant and her baby. They seemed to smile at Rhona and Rhona smiled back, patting their trunks as they slipped them out from between the bars to greet her.

“Have you seen the feedbags,” she asked them. Both mother and calf remained silent as always.

It didn’t matter… Rhona had a show to put on.

“Alois, let’s go buddy.”

The crow swooped down from the rafters and landed heavily on Rhona’s shoulders. Maybe the show would take the feeling away...

1027 Words