THe idea of spending a night together beneath the pines tickled at her heart. Oh, how she had dreamed of them to lay as lovers beneath the soft smell of pain and the gentle calling of rain-
How, it seemed so long ago, when it was but days, they had shared that moment together, as friends, while something deeper was brewing. How could she have known that in the heart of war, and the empty echo that followed that she would find true love in the first man she met?
As she dismounted from the horse, she took her time, admiring Cauwyn for all that he was worth, and she felt her breast swell with pride that she could call him hers. Would it be possible, she dreamed, that the two would ever to wed? Though for now, she was very content with the antithesis of their companionship, and to be somewhat caught up int he dangerous aspects of love.
But oh, how little these dangers could be! And it was so good to have these simple, unknown problems that plagued her rather than the aspirations, the guilt and cavernous afterbirth and still death of war. How wondrous it was to have that forgotten, and to have it heal in the powers of love.
Guiding the horse (since it would not do to have Cauwyn entertain the beast in which they hated each other both in equally despising ways), the two began on a light footed trail that meander beside a row of scattered pines. It smelled heavenly here, and it was at the far end of the walk that she noticed something off int he distance. A tall, fat, motherly tree that sat with her skirts upa nd inviting.
"Look, over there," Katahnia pointed, wrinkling her nose with glee. "That one ought to do." and she smiled over at Cauwyn triumphantly before leading the horse along the way. THe horse seemed less than enthused. Pine was never it's favorite to snack on and where Kathania had him tethered he was surrounded by nothing but their needles. Though as his nose pushed through, he eventually snuffed out some sweet grass and began to casually graze, but kept a sharp eye on Cauwyn, lest the man try anything funny to his mistress.
"You know, I was thinking.." Katahnia began as she began to unfasten their packs from the horse.
"I think our horse here needs a name."
The horse stopped chewing, it's mouth open as if gaping in surprise, then slowly, ever so slowly, it began to chew, but with more caution as it turned to glance at Katahnia in questioning.
"How about something like Albert?" she said, turning to the horse for approval. The horse merely snorted. It did not wish to be called Albert.
