Takes place a couple of days after
this post."So ... how is she holding up?" Anraí leaned against Tumbling Dice's stall door and watched as Cait stroked Jagger's nose. The gelding's placid acceptance of his sister's attentions had caused plenty of amazed comments from Flint Creek's hands, but right now neither Cait nor Jagger were Anraí's main
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And she had. Pippa was also somewhat hiding from people and their constant concern about her well-being. She was feeling more than a little smothered up at the house and really didn't want to be a bother what with the more important happenings that should be everyone's focus.
She'd taken Rory's leather jacket and muttered something about going for a walk before slipping out of the house and down to the barn. The dark, soft leather was ill-fitting on her smaller frame, but it made her happy with its long sleeves that came down to hide her hands from view.
Leaving the cat in the tack room (Western, all of it and familiar enough to her while still feeling foreign to her English trained self), Pippa entered the barn proper, smiling at the sight of so many of the gorgeous animals. It had been a very long time since she'd spent any time in a stable like this.
Jagger snorted, tossed his head. When there wasn't a welcoming nicker that followed, Pippa wisely moved past the large male, having the sense not to tempt fate with a strange animal. Instead, she came to stop at the stall of a cloud grey beast and leaned on the door, hand playing at the latch as she leaned to the side to see if there was a nameplate on the stall. There wasn't. "Hello, you...are you nicer than that grumpy cat in the tack room?"
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Well, and don't you look like a proper idiot now? Laine would probably laugh if she could see him. Or maybe not, she at least would know why he'd wound up in this situation.
All he could think of was to play along until a better idea came to him. Nickering gently, he stepped up to the door and extended his nose toward the redhead in a gracious equine request for a pat.
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She was, of course, guessing on the animal's gender, far too polite to open the stall and check. Pippa's easy affection towards him continued as she looked around the barn, at the other stalled horses, up towards the loft and back to the tack room.
"I had a pony a long time ago, he liked that too...yes, he did." Pippa's hand had found its way under the horse's head, fingers massaging the strong equine jaw as she rambled. "I don't suppose you have much else in common--what use does a work horse have for dressage training, hmm? Probably think it's as silly as Laine does. I used to like dancing with my pony, we did the prettiest pirouettes."
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A hint of púca mischief suggested that he respond to Pippa's talk of dressage with a piaffe or levade, but he stifled the impulse. Such a trick would surely cue her in to the fact that he was not the horse he appeared to be, and from there it wouldn't take her long to figure out who he was. She looked relaxed here, with a smile of enjoyment on her face, and he didn't want to disturb that unless he had to.
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"Hi..." She offered the greeting again, softly, as she stood at his withers, hands lifting to comb fingers through the long gray mane. "Hmm...they don't have your tack box in here, do they?"
Pippa answered the question herself as she looked around the otherwise empty stall, frowning. No tack box, no hay...poor baby, why hadn't they made his stall homey for him? "I'd give you a good brush down if they did. I guess you'll just have to settle for my company, such as it is."
She sighed then, hand pressed against the horse's neck. "I'm really not the best company these days, I'm sorry." Pippa stopped talking then, focused instead on the way her fingers fanned against the downy winter fur, wondering if the horse noticed the oddly short span of her left hand with its missing digit. It still looked and felt so alien to her, it had to appear that way to others. "You don't mind do you? You won't give me odd looks or stare, at least."
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He noticed the feel of the missing digit, but more, he heard the melancholy in her voice. Damn, what she'd been through. Was still going through. He nickered again and lightly bumped her shoulder with his nose.
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Pippa sighed. "Not that they mean too, of course. Everyone's just being high spirited and I don't blame them. They have a lot to be happy about. A wedding, a baby people actually want...maybe I'm just jealous. Their lives are so full of great things and mine just keeps falling further apart."
The longer she talked, the softer her voice became though her hands never stopped their fluttering caresses and loving strokes. The horse was a nice distraction while she rambled, vented the things she could not quite bring herself to say to the people celebrating a few hundred yards away.
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He couldn't say it, of course, not as he was. You want to make things easier for her, and you don't know how. Cait's words whispered through his mind.
Maybe there was no easier. Sometimes the only way out was through, but ... damn. A soft equine sigh gusted against Pippa's shoulder.
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She wiped at her cheeks with the back of one hand, stomping her foot in frustration at crying again. "I am officially pathetic. I don't even know why I'm here...they can't possibly want me to be. I should just stay right here and hang out with you, you're probably thrilled with that."
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Enough. If she figured it out, she figured it out, and he'd weather whatever came after. He couldn't do anything that smacked of pushing her away. Instead he extended his neck to carefully press the end of his nose against her forehead, thinking We do want you here, lass. We don't want you anywhere else.
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The redhead looked up at the grayish stallion, her new vantage point confirmed that much at least, and sniffed back more tears. "It's not just the way he looks, you know. It's what they did that frightens me. What Ro--oh, listen to me...like you care. You're probably just wondering why I didn't bring any treats with me, aren't you?"
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