The Journey Begins...
After a couple days on the road, it became very apparent to Razabeth that she would require more than the clothes on her back to make this work. While the horse seemed content to continue on regardless of the weather, the girl did not share her work ethic. It was spring… and in the greenbelt of the Empire that meant rain. Lots of it.
There really was not much left of the highborn lass that had set out afire with righteousness. It was very likely she had drowned a while back. Now her long hair was tangled and pulled back into a rough bun on the back of her neck. Her once bright red dress was dark with water and grime. The Popinjay had transformed… into a sparrow.
“At least we blend in…” She muttered, half to herself and half to the mare. It hadn’t taken long for her to start talking to the animal. Questioning her sanity had not been high on her list of things to do lately. Regardless, she was right. When they finally gave up and approached one of the many homesteads that scattered the landscape, she looked like nothing more than some errant farm girl out for a joyride in her mother’s old wedding dress.
It seemed a harmless place at least. A young boy with a brilliant shock of white blonde curls sat in the doorway of the modest farmhouse absently digging in the dirt with a stick. Nearby an aged and somewhat overweight spotted dog lounged, keeping an aloof but watchful eye over the proceedings, As Razabeth drew closer the dog raised it’s head only long enough to let out a lazy warning bark. Dropping whatever he was doing the child stood up, brushing his hands on his pants.
“Mama!” He called over his shoulder before cautiously venturing closer, nervously clenching his little fists. Sliding off her horse to meet the welcoming party the young woman couldn’t help but smile. He really was quite adorable despite all his efforts to seem brave.
“Hello there, little one…” Razabeth reached out her hand in greeting and was met by a somewhat grubby, albeit welcoming response.
“G’day ma’am… “ He responded automatically, still polite despite his obvious distraction. He barely gave the young woman a passing glance. He was far too busy looking up at horse, who considered him in kind, ears perked forward and nose outstretched. “THAT is a very big horse.” He noted a little over-casually, nodding gravely towards it. “Can I pet it?” He asked, his eyes wide with obvious awe.
“Well…” The girl looked up at the horse in a considering manner. Not entirely sure herself if it was a good idea. “She hasn’t eaten me yet… so I think you are safe. By this time the old dog had come over to inspect the newcomers as well, grumbling the whole way, it’s tail wagging in a most threatening manner. It didn’t take long before they were all making friends and the yellow horse had taken to nibbling on the child’s hair amid shrieks of glee.
“In all of creation Jacob! What have you gotten into…” As “Mama” rounded the corner, the whole three-ring circus froze. She paused in the doorway in disbelief, wash-rag still in hand. Even Razabeth had the good sense to at least look sheepish under her disapproving gaze. Jacob looked at his feet and scuffed his little boots in the mud. The horse continued to determinately crane her head towards the boy despite several ineffectual attempts at batting her away. The dog pranced and let out another mournful bay.
For all she was worth, Mama couldn’t help but laugh.
There really was not much left of the highborn lass that had set out afire with righteousness. It was very likely she had drowned a while back. Now her long hair was tangled and pulled back into a rough bun on the back of her neck. Her once bright red dress was dark with water and grime. The Popinjay had transformed… into a sparrow.
“At least we blend in…” She muttered, half to herself and half to the mare. It hadn’t taken long for her to start talking to the animal. Questioning her sanity had not been high on her list of things to do lately. Regardless, she was right. When they finally gave up and approached one of the many homesteads that scattered the landscape, she looked like nothing more than some errant farm girl out for a joyride in her mother’s old wedding dress.
It seemed a harmless place at least. A young boy with a brilliant shock of white blonde curls sat in the doorway of the modest farmhouse absently digging in the dirt with a stick. Nearby an aged and somewhat overweight spotted dog lounged, keeping an aloof but watchful eye over the proceedings, As Razabeth drew closer the dog raised it’s head only long enough to let out a lazy warning bark. Dropping whatever he was doing the child stood up, brushing his hands on his pants.
“Mama!” He called over his shoulder before cautiously venturing closer, nervously clenching his little fists. Sliding off her horse to meet the welcoming party the young woman couldn’t help but smile. He really was quite adorable despite all his efforts to seem brave.
“Hello there, little one…” Razabeth reached out her hand in greeting and was met by a somewhat grubby, albeit welcoming response.
“G’day ma’am… “ He responded automatically, still polite despite his obvious distraction. He barely gave the young woman a passing glance. He was far too busy looking up at horse, who considered him in kind, ears perked forward and nose outstretched. “THAT is a very big horse.” He noted a little over-casually, nodding gravely towards it. “Can I pet it?” He asked, his eyes wide with obvious awe.
“Well…” The girl looked up at the horse in a considering manner. Not entirely sure herself if it was a good idea. “She hasn’t eaten me yet… so I think you are safe. By this time the old dog had come over to inspect the newcomers as well, grumbling the whole way, it’s tail wagging in a most threatening manner. It didn’t take long before they were all making friends and the yellow horse had taken to nibbling on the child’s hair amid shrieks of glee.
“In all of creation Jacob! What have you gotten into…” As “Mama” rounded the corner, the whole three-ring circus froze. She paused in the doorway in disbelief, wash-rag still in hand. Even Razabeth had the good sense to at least look sheepish under her disapproving gaze. Jacob looked at his feet and scuffed his little boots in the mud. The horse continued to determinately crane her head towards the boy despite several ineffectual attempts at batting her away. The dog pranced and let out another mournful bay.
For all she was worth, Mama couldn’t help but laugh.