To Let Him Run

[Sjira]

(Posted: Tue Oct 27, 2009 5:30 pm)

Summer had already slipped into Fall. In the Glen, the leaves were turning brilliant colors of reds, golds, and browns.

And the small one stood beside the prancing, very large stallion that Panther had given her for her 21st birthday that past Summer.

Hooves struck dully, digging at the dirt that was still heavily sodden with the latest of late-Fall rains. S'jira's boots were muddy from the ankles down as she stretched to put her left booted foot into the stirrup while she grasped the horn of the saddle and pulled herself into it. It was something for the small woman to achieve it, without a large box, boulder, or helping hand...so when she managed it she smiled and heart lightened anew.

The minute little winged creatures were visited every week, if not as many days within that week as possible. One of them breezed by here with a pleasant sound, like that barely heard of a hummingbird. The one from the barbaric lands of Llothgar laughed aloud and warmly done.

"You are seen, tiny one. Will you allow a ...a flying today? A run, if not?" S'jira laughed aloud again when the naked, little female creature hummed loud enough in a response that she could only guess by these days was for something close to a 'yes'.

The creature, and those like her, was not a Fairy or Fae. 'jira had yet to find a picture of a tiny, naked, two-tailed, four-winged creatures that had silver and gold hair and copper skin. Perhaps family to the Fairies, perhaps not. Perhaps she was the first to find their kind, or maybe others had known they had been in RhyDin's Glen for centuries, or just a few years.

S'jira did not know, but she had already abandoned the wondering of it. With chores done for the time and a faint drizzle so light on the air it was a mist, she gripped reins and mane tighter and leaned in,just before she put her the soft heels of her leather boots in against Trygg's sides.

The large, black stallion bolted forward and hooves thundered against the ground beneath them. Clumps of wet dirt and grass flew up behind them. Mud spattered against her already plain, brown dress and her legs.

It was something 'jira enjoyed. A lot. Running Trygg was wonderful, but to race him joyfully against one of her newfound friends was enough to keep a heart light for hours.

Horse and rider took a torrent, swift path through the Glen, setting some of the grassbirds to flight and a couple of miffed deer springing off, back into the solace and quieter areas at the wooded edge.

As laughter lifted and the ride slowed to a walk, 'jira leaned in to lay herself much more against the back and neck of the great horse. Her little, four-winged friend was joined by another in seeming conversation over something she couldn't understand. She pulled her hair to the side and simply watched them for a very long while as Trygg strolled the tall, wet grassed.

He came to stand them beside the lake's edge to drink from it, after a time. And the small woman drew herself up to sitting on the horse. The two small ones had flitted off towards the great, ancient tree where she had made the tiny houses for them of varying colors. A smile to self and she slid from her horse's back to see make her way beneath the sheltering boughs of the tree.