"I'm looking for someone you might have spotted on your hunt."
"Who?"
"A donkey to your eyes. Small, weak around the withers, probably up to no good."
"Who?"
"Yes, I got the 'Who' joke the first time," Aréharis deadpanned, eyeing the barn owl balefully. "I bet that gets a vacuous laugh out of your other unicorn friends, but trust me, every owl does that joke. I heard it before your grandfather was born, and I didn't laugh then either. Now. The jackass?"
The owl ruffled up its feathers until it appeared to be an indignant ball of bed-stuffing perched on the eaves of the blacksmith's shop. Its yellow eyes glared luminescently down at the rude, stocky little unicorn, and it clicked its beak in disapproval.
"Oh, fine. I saw the penny-pincher and his hatchling scarper back to their nest with a jackass in tow."
The unicorn tilted his head. "Penny-pincher?"
More beak-clicking. Aréharis suspected that was insulting between birds, or at least owls in this particular region. The owl tilted its head to match Aréharis' mockingly. "The dirt-scratchers don't like the penny-pincher. He squawks in the marketplace about prices, picks around middens for scrap, and chases after shiny pebbles in the river in case he finds a trickle of gold. The hatchling lurks around magic-folk and fills his head with stories."
"Hm. Trivial greed," Aréharis sneered. "A nuisance, but a tangle easily unraveled. Where does the penny-pincher nest?"
"There's a farmhouse north of the village. The barn's paint is peeled, the cows are lean, the hens barely lay. He keeps most of his pickings in the barn." The barn owl gave a displeased hoot. "The roof leaks when it rains. Always smells of damp."
"You're being overly forthcoming," Aréharis noted, a smile sneaking about his lips. "Perhaps the thought of the penny-pincher meeting an irate unicorn interests you?"
The barn owl gave an indignant hoot and turned its back on the unicorn. Aréharis laughed, and took off at a canter through the dirt paths of La'marri northward, to the overgrown fields and tumbledown farmhouse. Though Aréharis was determined not to get overly sidetracked, it was in his nature-loving instinct to wonder about the lean cows and nervous hens in the care of the penny-pincher.
~~~
Benjy's Mam barely passed a word to him as she eyed the jackass up and down, her meaty fingers reaching to pinch and prod him as if she were bargaining for him in the marketplace.
"Barn's crowded enough as is," she grumbled to herself. "'Ow much did ye get 'im fer?"
"Nought, Mam," Benjy replied dutifully. "He came to us, like 'e was lost."
"Only not lost now," Pa interjected swiftly. "'E's ours now fair'n'square, 'es not from round 'ere tha's fer sure."
"And 'e's roight smart too, 'e is," Benjy continued, "Can write 'is own na-..."
"Tha's enough boy, go put 'im in th'barn," Pa growled. No need to mention the donkey's peculiar intelligence. Whilst Pa's greed would let him overlook the possible wizardly origins of the donkey's writing talent, Mam would sooner turn a perfectly good jackass out into the cold if she got wind of magic.
"C'mon Ian," Benjy murmured as he led Kai to the barn. "I 'spect nobody's been feedin' ye proper. Wizards are s'posed to be smart, but ain't nothin' about keepin' livestock in magic books, eh?" He hooked his lantern on the barn wall, and squinted back at the farmhouse to check Mam had gone back inside with Pa. "Go on Ian, while they ain't lookin'. Can ye write fer me some more?"