<b>Back outside, Pegawen followed as Horn made his way towards the stables. Finest in the lands? She wondered how they'd measure up to the high stables of Galadriel. “Tell me,” she started, speeding up to keep time with his longer stride, “Why is it that you do not approach the young woman? It's clear you're enamored with her?” <br/>
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A rock skittered across the ground, and she glanced over to see Horn correct his step. “If it's something you wish not to speak of ..”</b><br/><br/>“<b>No. It's fine.” His voice was tight. He waved off to the left and turned towards a circled corral. <br/>
</b><br/>“<b>Hmmm.” Pegawen fell silent, contemplating his words as the approached the horses. For a moment, she focused on them instead. She didn't know much about horses, but she could tell that these were well tended, healthy beasts. The smallest of them appeared to be about 17 hands tall, a shock of white mane draped over its chestnut colored coat. Several seemed to be similar shades of chestnut, though a few were paler, almost golden colored. <br/>
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One of the horses came up to the fence and leaned over, nuzzling Pegawen's hair, much to her amusement. “Alright, that's not food,” she stated in mock dismay, reaching up to pat the side of its muzzle.</b><br/><br/>“<b>That's Starlight.” Horn gently redirected the mare's attention with a bit of apple. “She's a favored steed here, both swift and sturdy. Few horses have beat her in races. Ellawynne uses her when sending messages between towns.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>She's spoiled,” Pegawen pointed out as Starlight finished the bit of apple and turned to seek the hiril's hair once more.</b><br/><br/>“<b>Much the same way as her mistress,” Horn agreed.</b><br/><br/>“<b>It pains you.” She reached over and gave Horn a sympathetic pat on the arm.</b><br/><br/>“<b>No sense in it. Besides, soon I'll return to my own city and the responsibilities of ruling it. My father will not be with us much longer, and mother has returned to her own people for a visit.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>She's not from here?”</b><br/><br/><b>Horn shrugged. “Nay. She came from across the plains, traveling – my father said – with her family. They'd been traders from outside the plains.” He led her around to the back of the corral, where the stables provided shelter and shade for older horses and foals. “Though it is fair to say that my mother was more fighter than trader, as she trained the swordsmen of the caravans. Was how she met my father. And I'm talking your ear off.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>I don't mind listening.” Pegawen leaned over the rail and peeked into the dimness of the stalls. “You do have nice horses, I must agree.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>Of course we do. And your people have some of the best craftsmen. It would be nice to have more trade come out this way.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>I'm sure it'll happen after. But for now, I should wish to find somewhere to rest.” Pegawen looked back towards the tents.</b><br/><br/>“<b>Come, I'll walk you back.”</b><br/><br/><br/><b>Allassiel shook her head. Galadriel had always said that what she saw in her mirror was not set, but only shadows of things that may be. Choices made always affected the outcome. She wondered that this old woman had not mentioned this bit of wisdom to such a young child but left her to believe that she had no options other than some vague vision.</b><br/><br/>“<b>So, if we're to get started on this mission, we should probably get some rest.” She stood and dusted off her riding clothes. “Perhaps there's a place to wash off as well?”</b>