The Saldaean was nearly always angry at something these days; frustrated with her lack of progress in lessons. Why couldn't they be out here? With the horses it was...different. She could focus. There were certain things one had to do, a certain way to behave around horses, and she knew those. She belonged here.
Serain walked through the main area of the stable in a way that was almost meditative -not that she was aware of that fact- looking at the horses in the stalls, noting how each was feeling. Maybe that was part of her problem. Paks was training to be a Warder, and she couldn't imagine her doing anything else. Jesi at least seemed alright with her lot. But Serain? The fiery redhead wasn't meant to sit in a room being talked to. She hated sitting around; she didn't think she belonged at the Grey Tower if that was what it meant.
Usually this line of thought would get her irritated, but not here. It was like it all stayed in a little box- she knew the consequences of being overly anxious or hostile around horses.
It was then she looked up to see where her slow, meandering walk had taken her to see a bay stallion watching her with interest. Light, he was larger than most the the horses she'd been around growing up.
"What are you there, big fella? Seventeen hands?" she estimated aloud. "And such a lovely coat. I'll bet you're the one in charge around here, aren't you?" she teased softly.
- Spoiler: show