Lochlann hadn’t ridden a horse in gods knew how long.
Since he was technically a horse himself, his presence in a stable tended to have mixed results. Some horses hated him—stallions in particular seemed to take him as a threat—and other horses were afraid of him, but as long as he didn’t transform in front of them or make any gestures that indicated he might be eyeing one of them up for a snack, they seemed to relax.
Since he already spoke their language, Lochlann could get away with a lot of things he might otherwise be unable to. Today, Lochlann selected a white horse from the stable based on the fact that she didn’t bolt when he walked into the building, and the fact that she was huge. She was probably some kind of draft horse, which would be good, because Lochlann planned on having her carry two people.
He saddled her up, swung his leg over, and whispered into her ear. She trotted him out of the stables and down to the town at an easy gait. Lochlann had packed a picnic lunch, which was secured nicely in the saddle bag. He’d asked Aisling on a date, and since she’d agreed—as far as he could tell, that was agreeing—he knew where he was going to take her.
Given the fact that it was the Manta Carlos Islands, no one looked at him toostrangely when he rode down mainstreet on a horse with no name, but they did look a little strangely when he tied the reins to a parking meter and knocked on the door at the small goth café and asked for Aisling.
@"hyperhurricane"
Since he was technically a horse himself, his presence in a stable tended to have mixed results. Some horses hated him—stallions in particular seemed to take him as a threat—and other horses were afraid of him, but as long as he didn’t transform in front of them or make any gestures that indicated he might be eyeing one of them up for a snack, they seemed to relax.
Since he already spoke their language, Lochlann could get away with a lot of things he might otherwise be unable to. Today, Lochlann selected a white horse from the stable based on the fact that she didn’t bolt when he walked into the building, and the fact that she was huge. She was probably some kind of draft horse, which would be good, because Lochlann planned on having her carry two people.
He saddled her up, swung his leg over, and whispered into her ear. She trotted him out of the stables and down to the town at an easy gait. Lochlann had packed a picnic lunch, which was secured nicely in the saddle bag. He’d asked Aisling on a date, and since she’d agreed—as far as he could tell, that was agreeing—he knew where he was going to take her.
Given the fact that it was the Manta Carlos Islands, no one looked at him toostrangely when he rode down mainstreet on a horse with no name, but they did look a little strangely when he tied the reins to a parking meter and knocked on the door at the small goth café and asked for Aisling.
@"hyperhurricane"
