[piosenniel]

Pio tapped her heels against ‘Falmar’s sides, and led the way out of the inn’s yard. The reins were light in her hands, as she headed for the eastward path along the Water. ‘I am bound for the home of a good friend of mine, Amaranthas Bolger. She lives just a few miles up the road that heads north from the Water to Oatbarton. I will have need of a midwife in just a month’s time, and she will know who can best serve me.’ They talked pleasantly, of small matters, then, as their mounts bore them along, and watched the changing scenery.

Less than a mile from the inn, and they had left the small congestion of Bywater and were well into the low rolling hills of the East Farthing countryside. The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as they made their way through the sea of high grasses. The wind rippled through the fields, the heads of the grasses undulating with it, like waves on a bright green sea.

‘Falmar stopped, her head held high, and shook her neck and head vigorously. Her grey mane flew wildly in the wind. Pio could feel the tension of the great horse’s muscles coiled beneath her. She wanted to run through the grass, cleaving it like a great ship through the cresting waves. Eat up the miles and leave them far behind her.

The Elf inched forward on the withers and bent down to whisper to the horse. Her hands wound tightly in ‘Falmar’s mane, and she gave a wide smile to the girl beside her. ‘Keep up, as you can.’ she said, as ‘Falmar surged forward and was brought to a halt. ‘The wind is with us, and we wish to run.’

She leaned as close to the horse as her babied girth would allow. Her mind reached out to catch the feeling of abandon as ‘Falmar leapt to meet the rolling green waves. They flew, and the wind of their passing was like a great sigh through the fields. The tall grasses parted for a brief moment, bowing down before them; then closed behind, as if undisturbed, once again . . .

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]