The Stables

His suggestion of what she should appear ad brought an involuntary laugh from the Queen, nearly enough to bend her double; as it was, she missed a step in her stride, brushing against the arbor that opened out into the Orchards. Then she paused, wondering if that was even possible. She often had the same color of fur as her hair, which was a color you rarely saw on a wolf, even a Dire, unless they controlled fire in some way. Orange, the same. Pink? Well, Maelstrom and Vortex have violet swirls on their paws, one’s markings mirroring the other’s. She didn’t think she’d seen pink on a wolf. “We’ll have to see about the pink, I think.”

She listened to his suggestions as she led the way through the orchard. “Mmm, no, I don’t think so. Our establishments are generally respectable.” As he made his suggestion for haste, she chuckled. He wasn’t one to get chummy with the guards, though she had no doubt that if it meant adventure, he’s happily antagonize one. Titan included. She lifted her skirts over her ankles as she crossed into the pastures, several horses lifting their heads to watch the pair curiously. Redfire, grazing at the far end, spun on his hocks and charged, straight for Patch, before veering abruptly at the last possible moment and prancing to greet his Queen, point made, apparently.

She paused to stroke the chestnut’s nose before nodding toward the stables. The stallion cantered readily toward the building, Queen and Patch in tow. As the stallion made his way to the saddling area, Briena stepped into a feed room, waving a hand and undoing the laces of the gown with a bit of Craft and letting the fabric fall away, calling in a stack of traveling clothes and pulling them on with a sigh of relief. As she buckled the belt around her hips, she vanished the gown, safely storing it in that other plane of a storage compartment before she stepped from the room, scooping a handful of oats for Redfire.

She grinned at Patch as she fed the handful to the stallion. “Walking or riding?”

Patch idly brushed his chin with fingers at her question, staring towards the horses. "Well it would seem like a terrible waste not to use horses when we're right here, since there's small chance of them being stolen. Horses make for a far more dramatic escape should we need to leap out of windows," he answered, almost like he was subtly trying to mentor her. His finger wagged as if to answer an unsaid question, "It comes up more than you think. Preparing for your lack of preparation is important!"

He wandered after her towards one of the horses, leaning on the stall and grimacing at the beast within. "On second thoughts, maybe you take a horse and I'll walk." Things with minds of their own were rarely to be trusted as transport, as they tended not to have the same ideas as their rider.

With a knowing cock of his head, Patch answered with a wry grin and a nod of his head, "My dear Queen Briena, I have been running my entire life." He turned n the spot and marched for the stable entrance with a tug of his cloak to his side, though it would no doubt flutter dramatically behind him as he ran.

"And often times it was from men on horses. With nets and spears and dogs..." he said with a waft of his hand in the air, "But the funny thing about those sorts is they're terrible once you get into a forest." He tossed a glance back over his shoulder to make sure she had followed, or rather to make sure he had walked to the correct exit. "I mean, dogs and horses can't climb trees. Now if they came at me with hawks or snakes I could be in trouble."

He pondered the thought for a moment, wondering why men never did hunt with birds. He had heard that birds could tear flesh open with talons and peel metal with their beaks when called upon. Maybe it was just stories.