"I may not be an expert on the subject, but that looks like an odd way to ride a horse," Ferris called from some distance away as he approached. Breakfast could wait.
Trenor lifted his head, grass dribbling from his mouth, and snorted.
Karal sat up, blinking a little because he'd been foolishly close to falling asleep. "It's not recommended, but Trenor and I've been together for a long time," he replied. "I don't believe I know you, do I? My name is Karal, from Karse."
Karal blinked again. "And suddenly I'm pleased I don't listen to it very often." Or at all, really, truth be told. "Glory, I'm not sure I want to know what squirrels are saying about me."
He swung a leg over Trenor's wither and slid off, landing neatly on the ground. Trenor went back to grazing.
"I'm still getting over the fact that the squirrels say anything at all." Ferris jerked his head towards Trenor. "You look pretty at ease with the whole horse-riding thing. Were you a knight in Karse?" Ferris figured he'd met a ninja, the radio station was run by a pirate, Doom looked like a robot, there were stories of zombies so all he needed to round up the collection was a knight and a cowboy.
He laughed and scratched Trenor's neck. "No, I was - I am - a priest, but my father was a stableman. I have been around horses since I was born, working with them since I was four. I'd have followed my father's path were it not for joining the Kin of Vkandis."
"A priest?" Ferris sounded surprised, but it was quickly followed by a brief calculating look, then a friendly smile. His hands were in his pockets, offering very little in the way of body language. "Interesting. How's that working out for you?"
If Ferris was intending to fend off interest, that had been exactly the wrong way to go about it. And so very obvious. "Very well, thank you for asking," he replied, studying the other boy carefully. "You're not about to tell me you don't like priests, are you?"
"I couldn't really say. You're the first I've met. Wait, no. I have met the Archbishop of Chicago, but those weren't exactly normal circumstances, so you're the first I've had a conversation with. It wouldn't be fair to say whether I like or dislike priests without getting to know you."
"Glory, that's quite a lot of pressure!" Karal said lightly, amused and a bit baffled by Ferris. "Hopefully you won't dislike them based on my example. I'd hate to be responsible for a future filled with disliking the clergy."
"I wouldn't worry too much about it. I'm not easily offended." Mock offended was one thing, truly offended was another entirely. He looked around Karal to see what Trenor was up to, then straightened and turned his attention back to Karal. "What brings a priest to high school? It's not exactly the holiest of places."
"And I try hard not to offend." Trenor's ear flicked at Ferris' attention, but the grass was much more important than people without treats. "As for why I am here," he paused, ordering his thoughts, "I was, for a time, my country's envoy to Valdemar, a neighbouring country. I was sent here to gain experience. I'm no longer Envoy, but I've been blessed enough that the Son of the Sun permitted me to stay."
"Son of the Sun? Son of the Sun. There's a tongue-twister. Fandom seems good a place as any to get experience. Have you ever had a hot dog? It's an important experience that a lot of people around here seem to have missed out on."
Karal rubbed his temple, boggling a bit at Ferris' manner. "As it happens, I have. In New York, actually. A friend of mine bought it for me. It was...interesting."
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Karal sat up, blinking a little because he'd been foolishly close to falling asleep. "It's not recommended, but Trenor and I've been together for a long time," he replied. "I don't believe I know you, do I? My name is Karal, from Karse."
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He swung a leg over Trenor's wither and slid off, landing neatly on the ground. Trenor went back to grazing.
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