"He says he doesn't sulk," I relay to Rhyland, rolling my eyes. "Apparently, ancient steeds of legend are above such things."
Rhyland's arms circle my waist, his chin resting on my head. "The war horse knows better. Don't you, boy?"
"I am merely expressing my profound disappointment in your lack of appreciation for traditional modes of transportation,"Gullfax projects into my thoughts, each word precise and pompous.
I snort. "Now he's lecturing me about 'traditional modes of transportation.' I swear he practices these speeches."
"I do not practice anything,"Gullfax's mental voice turns haughty."I am naturally eloquent."
"He claims it's natural eloquence," I tell Rhyland, who's shaking with silent laughter.
"You try maintaining dignity when your chosen rider starts treating you like a backup plan."
I step forward, poking his muscled shoulder. "Backup plan? More like my first line of defense when shit hits the fan. In case you haven't noticed, this happens a lot around here."
His eyes soften slightly."Perhaps... I may have overreacted. Slightly."
"He admits to overreacting," I translate for Rhyland, "but only slightly. Very slightly. His pride is still intact."
"Now, if you'll excuse me,"Gullfax says, turning back to his hay.I have some vital dining to attend to. It requires my full concentration."
I roll my eyes. "Drama queen."
"I heard that."
"You were meant to."
Rhyland's laugh rumbles through his chest. "Come on, Angel. Let his majesty eat in peace."
"Fine," I concede, giving Gullfax one last pat. "But this conversation isn't over, mister."
I head to the stall door, about to lock it—"
Thank you, Lightborn,"Gullfax whispers through my mind, all traces of indignation gone. His mental tone softens with genuine gratitude."For what you did today, I will never forget it."
Warmth blooms in my chest as I step back to his stall, wrapping my arms around his neck. His coat shimmers like captured sunlight beneath my touch. "Anytime, big guy."
Gullfax gently nuzzles my back with his head, bringing tears to my eyes. I catch Rhyland watching us, a rare soft smile on his lips. His eyes are so tender that they make my heart skip.
"What's he saying?" Rhyland asks, his deep voice quiet, respecting the moment.
"Just thanking me," I manage, still wrapped in Gullfax's embrace. "Though I'm the one who should be grateful. You saved my life today, you magnificent drama queen."
Gullfax's mental snort carries equal parts affection and wounded pride."I prefer 'theatrical warrior steed,' if you please. Meet me here tomorrow morning, you owe me a ride, Lightborn."
Danica
39
The sun barely peeks over the horizon as I trudge through fresh snow toward the stables. My breath clouds in the frigid air, and I swear my eyelashes are developing icicles. But duty calls—specifically in the form of one demanding magical horse.
Gullfax stands regally in his stall, somehow managing to look both majestic and slightly judgmental. How a horse pulls that off, I'll never know.
"Good morning, Lightborn,"he greets, his voice carrying that mixture of ancient wisdom and barely concealed sass that I've come to expect.
"Morning, Your Royal Horseness," I reply, pulling my jacket tighter. "Care to enlighten me about our destination? My overprotective Viking isn't thrilled about me galloping off into the unknown."
Gullfax gives me what can only be described as an equine eye-roll."Either I'm imagining things, or you two need to hash out whatever storm cloud is hovering over your relationship."He tosses his magnificent mane."Perhaps some time apart will do you both some good. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that mortal nonsense."
