Night Ride on the Caucasus
Who: The Baron and Sherlock Holmes
Where: About town
When: Twilight, June 4th
What: A meeting, long over due
Rating: PG
Status: Closed / Incomplete
It was getting difficult to stay in the mansion. Spring carried with it's warm whispers an insistent restlessness just under The Baron's skin. The horses pawed soft earth in their stables, eager to run. Winter had left it's mark on them, but the carriage had everything he needed to keep the partially mechanical beasts in good repair.
After twilight, Byron found himself coming to the stable more often, greeting each of the animals with a soft nuzzle. Most animals feared Nobility, especially a Noble battling bloodlust, but the four dappled steeds here were different. Programing in their brains had all but removed the capacity for fear and replaced it with obedience. If given the chance, Nobility horses had a rather nasty reputation of doing anything possible to return to their masters if stolen, including throwing themselves off cliffs or into deadly flowing rapids. It was one of the reasons they were so highly prized if ambitious hunters could capture then and bring them to a mechanic for reprogramming.
"You need to run and I need to hunt." Byron said a little sadly to a steely black stallion. "One of us will be happy tonight." Letting the stallion nip affectionately at the collar of his cloak, The Baron turned to remove a saddle from the wall of the stable, only to be greeted with an echoing of six other sets of clopping hooves. "One at the time tonight, I'm afraid; Sabriel, come..." The latch of the stable seemed to lift on it's own and the stallion cantered out, tossing an inky mane happily. It didn't take long for the saddle and reigns to be fit, and with a wicked, pointy smile Byron mounted in one swift motion, gathering the braided leather reigns in one hand as he leaned down to hum in one tint radio-dish ear.
"Let's see if we can't still outrun the dawn shall we?" The reigns snapped only once as Noble and steed dashed out into the night.
Where: About town
When: Twilight, June 4th
What: A meeting, long over due
Rating: PG
Status: Closed / Incomplete
It was getting difficult to stay in the mansion. Spring carried with it's warm whispers an insistent restlessness just under The Baron's skin. The horses pawed soft earth in their stables, eager to run. Winter had left it's mark on them, but the carriage had everything he needed to keep the partially mechanical beasts in good repair.
After twilight, Byron found himself coming to the stable more often, greeting each of the animals with a soft nuzzle. Most animals feared Nobility, especially a Noble battling bloodlust, but the four dappled steeds here were different. Programing in their brains had all but removed the capacity for fear and replaced it with obedience. If given the chance, Nobility horses had a rather nasty reputation of doing anything possible to return to their masters if stolen, including throwing themselves off cliffs or into deadly flowing rapids. It was one of the reasons they were so highly prized if ambitious hunters could capture then and bring them to a mechanic for reprogramming.
"You need to run and I need to hunt." Byron said a little sadly to a steely black stallion. "One of us will be happy tonight." Letting the stallion nip affectionately at the collar of his cloak, The Baron turned to remove a saddle from the wall of the stable, only to be greeted with an echoing of six other sets of clopping hooves. "One at the time tonight, I'm afraid; Sabriel, come..." The latch of the stable seemed to lift on it's own and the stallion cantered out, tossing an inky mane happily. It didn't take long for the saddle and reigns to be fit, and with a wicked, pointy smile Byron mounted in one swift motion, gathering the braided leather reigns in one hand as he leaned down to hum in one tint radio-dish ear.
"Let's see if we can't still outrun the dawn shall we?" The reigns snapped only once as Noble and steed dashed out into the night.