On Patrol (Continued from Let's Go to the Prancing Pony)

[piosenniel]

Holly had recovered from her blow enough to help out with the needs of others.

She called Peri over, and reached into his saddlebags for a small pot of 'Heals-All' salve, and the curry comb and brushes.

To Bird she gave the pot of salve, knowing that her friend always liked to minister to her wounds herself.

She reached into a small bag on Peri and pulled out two lumps of sugar. One she gave to her pony, being sure to let the black horse have an unobstructed view of the treat. The other lump she held out in her open palm, and advanced slowly toward the great horse, talking softly all the while.

He was fractious, and his great eyes seemed a little wild and wide as he shied away from her. But she stopped,& continued to talk to him gently. He came forward, his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent. Finally, greed overcame fear, and he came to her and took the sugar from her hand.

She reached up and touched him lightly with her free hand. His skin trembled at the unfamiliar gentleness. He quieted, and stood still, shaking his head as if agreeing to the touch. She ran both her hands down his near flank, increasing the pressure as she went along, accustoming him to the rhythm of her touch. He watched her as she placed the brushes on her hands and stroked him gently, and then more firmly - brushing away ages of dirt and grime and neglect . . .