kawa~ inspiration #30
Feb. 8th, 2005 12:47 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Own Policy
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All mine
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration #30. Not entirely happy with this one. Ah well, it gets the job done.
~ ~ ~
“Nimay! Highness!”
Nimay had one foot in the stirrup when the voice came to her. She took it out and turned towards the direction of running footsteps, laying an apologetic hand on Ashburn’s shoulder. The horse snorted, annoyed that her run was being delayed.
“Do you know him?” Nol asked her, keeping a firm grip on Mongrel’s reigns to keep the stallion from rearing or bolting at the sudden movement.
Nimay shook her head, frowning at the person who had called to them.
He wore the purple shirt of the blade archers. He appeared to be two or three years older than Nolryn, placing him at around twenty-five, so he had probably been admitted into the army three years ago. He was grinning broadly as he stroked Ashburn’s nose, causing the mare to snort again and shake her head slightly.
Nimay shifted her weight to her other leg, putting one hand on her hip and cocking her head inquiringly at the blade archer.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, bowing his head respectfully. “I’m Yoryl. Would you mind too much if I rode Ashburn or Mongrel for a bit? Not long, just five minutes or so,” he added hastily, holding up his outstretched fingers at the swordswoman’s raised eyebrows. “I wouldn’t wear them out or anything, I just—”
Nimay held up one hand to cut the enthusiastic young man off, then displayed both palms upwards, eyebrows raised in the question that Nolryn quickly vocalised.
“Why?”
Yoryl shrugged. “Well, seeing as I’ll probably be joining you tomorrow—” Nimay folded her arms dubiously, but let him continue. “—I was thinking it would be a good idea to know what a good horse is like, so I’d know—”
Nimay couldn’t help giggling, casting a sideways glance at the prince’s steed.
“Mongrel’s… not the ideal horse,” Nolryn interpreted, then frowned quizzically at the blade archer. “What do you mean when you say you’ll be joining us tomorrow?”
Yoryl raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “I’m going for a place in the Own tomorrow, haven’t you guys been told?”
Nimay and Nolryn exchanged equally clueless glances.
“I thought Majesty said he was going to tell us when one of out positions was being challenged,” Nol said blandly, “Since none of the guys seemed particularly happy when we both showed up.”
Nimay nodded in agreement, then shrugged. Maybe the two blade archers in the Own had been told, but none of the other riders had been.
“So can I?” Yoryl asked hopefully.
Ashburn snorted impatiently, nosing her rider in an effort to urge her on her back so they could get moving. Nimay obliged, holding the reigns tightly to keep the mare from bolting off prematurely.
Nol mounted his own fidgety horse, then shook his head apologetically at the blade archer. “Own policy,” he explained briefly, then took off.
Nimay shrugged her own apology, then let Ashburn race off after her colleague so she could question him on this mysterious new ‘Own policy.’
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All mine
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration #30. Not entirely happy with this one. Ah well, it gets the job done.
“Nimay! Highness!”
Nimay had one foot in the stirrup when the voice came to her. She took it out and turned towards the direction of running footsteps, laying an apologetic hand on Ashburn’s shoulder. The horse snorted, annoyed that her run was being delayed.
“Do you know him?” Nol asked her, keeping a firm grip on Mongrel’s reigns to keep the stallion from rearing or bolting at the sudden movement.
Nimay shook her head, frowning at the person who had called to them.
He wore the purple shirt of the blade archers. He appeared to be two or three years older than Nolryn, placing him at around twenty-five, so he had probably been admitted into the army three years ago. He was grinning broadly as he stroked Ashburn’s nose, causing the mare to snort again and shake her head slightly.
Nimay shifted her weight to her other leg, putting one hand on her hip and cocking her head inquiringly at the blade archer.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, bowing his head respectfully. “I’m Yoryl. Would you mind too much if I rode Ashburn or Mongrel for a bit? Not long, just five minutes or so,” he added hastily, holding up his outstretched fingers at the swordswoman’s raised eyebrows. “I wouldn’t wear them out or anything, I just—”
Nimay held up one hand to cut the enthusiastic young man off, then displayed both palms upwards, eyebrows raised in the question that Nolryn quickly vocalised.
“Why?”
Yoryl shrugged. “Well, seeing as I’ll probably be joining you tomorrow—” Nimay folded her arms dubiously, but let him continue. “—I was thinking it would be a good idea to know what a good horse is like, so I’d know—”
Nimay couldn’t help giggling, casting a sideways glance at the prince’s steed.
“Mongrel’s… not the ideal horse,” Nolryn interpreted, then frowned quizzically at the blade archer. “What do you mean when you say you’ll be joining us tomorrow?”
Yoryl raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “I’m going for a place in the Own tomorrow, haven’t you guys been told?”
Nimay and Nolryn exchanged equally clueless glances.
“I thought Majesty said he was going to tell us when one of out positions was being challenged,” Nol said blandly, “Since none of the guys seemed particularly happy when we both showed up.”
Nimay nodded in agreement, then shrugged. Maybe the two blade archers in the Own had been told, but none of the other riders had been.
“So can I?” Yoryl asked hopefully.
Ashburn snorted impatiently, nosing her rider in an effort to urge her on her back so they could get moving. Nimay obliged, holding the reigns tightly to keep the mare from bolting off prematurely.
Nol mounted his own fidgety horse, then shook his head apologetically at the blade archer. “Own policy,” he explained briefly, then took off.
Nimay shrugged her own apology, then let Ashburn race off after her colleague so she could question him on this mysterious new ‘Own policy.’