Aranel dismounted gracefully from Star’s back, her feet making almost no sound as they came in contact with the thick, lush undergrowth of the small clearing in the Draconi Forest. She quickly unbuckled Star’s girth and slipped the saddle and blanket from his back, slinging them over a low-hanging branch. She also slipped off the bridle from his head and hung it up, she didn’t know how long she would be gone and she wanted him to be free to move and graze. Her own pack she hung next to the saddle. It held some food, a few horse treats, her healer’s bag, and a change of clothes. She walked back to Star and he lowered his head to nuzzle her shoulder affectionately. She smiled at the action, so uncharacteristic of most Elvish warhorses, and rubbed his nose.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but you know what to do.� She spoke out loud, but the horse understood every word she said. “Try not to wander too far away and get lost, and call me if you need help.�
“I know, little mistress� he said to her, a teasing tone in his voice. “I am not a colt that you must tell me to not wander. And it is not I that is most likely to get into trouble, but you that need to stay out of danger while I am not there to protect you.�
Aranel laughed at his last comment, but even so, it was more truth than not. Her companion had saved her life more times that she could count, he had been trained almost from birth how to fight, with a rider and without, and when he went into fighting mode, he was a bundle of lightning fast and iron hard hooves and damaging teeth. He was one of the best warhorses in the world, coming from the famed stables of the Elven-King of the Old Forest. Moreover, he was also half-unicorn, only the fourth in Elvish history to be so. Because of this, his life span almost matched that of Aranel’s, and while he exhibited no outward characteristics of his sire’s race, such as a horn protruding from his forehead, he could heal himself of almost any wound he received and his coat was pure white.
Aranel mused over all this as she threaded her way between the gigantic trees that made up the farthest edge of the Old Forest. She and Star were alike in more ways than one. Both were half-breeds, but where Star’s breeding made him the most valuable possession of the Elves, she was merely offered the least respect that could be given without being insulting and gossiped about behind her back. She couldn’t help but feeling some satisfaction on remembering the looks on the Lord’s and Lady’s faces when her father gave her Star as a parting gift.
Aranel shook herself out of her reverie as she stopped by one of the larger oaks. She looked up, and spotting a branch that was low enough, jumped, grabbed the branch and swung herself up. She continued to scale the tree, looking almost cat-like in her ability to find hand and foot holds when there were no branches close enough. Finally she stopped, about 200 feet from the ground. She leaned up against the giant trunk and closed her eyes, listening to the life beat of the forest as it surrounded and swelled up around her. Suddenly she pushed away from the trunk and ran lightly down the thick limb and reaching the end, stopped spread her arms like wings, and lept.
She had fallen not two seconds before she had fully changed, and spreading, her wings, she shot up, dodging through the thick and twisted branches until she finally exited the canopy of the forest and flew higher and higher, exulting in the freedom, a lone hawk soaring over a seemingly unending spread of trees.
