Bastien flips through the book. It's too quick to be checking for damage. More of a fond welcome back to the pages. Then he sighs. It doesn't actually sound exasperated, and the glance he turns back toward the horse is already very fond.
"Antiva."
His pause briefly threatens to make that the whole explanation.
"They are not all good at cards. This man owed more than he could pay to me and to another fellow—he was trying to make the money he owed someone else off of me, you know how it goes. He said I could have the horse instead. And I said," with a self-effacing deepening of his accent, "I don't want ze horse! I barely want ze money. And the other fellow, Clifford Hayden, he said he wanted the horse. But I know him, and I have seen him kick a dog minding its own business in the street. So I wanted the horse after all."
The horse bites him. Bastien doesn't flinch, but he does aim a second look over his shoulder, this time stern.
"That's good of you," is said very sincerely. Ellis' voice warms over the praise, moving past Bastien to pass his hands down the horse's neck, shoulder, then chest, crouching to carefully run his hands down one leg.
"Have you decided on a name?"
Bastien seems either unbothered or charmed by the biting, so Ellis doesn't count it against the beast. It suits, somewhat. From the stable floor, he points out, "You're charming enough that I've gone mostly unnoticed."
He takes a step away. Not to evade further snuffling and biting, just to find a better view for satisfying his curiosity about what Ellis is doing. The horse's nose follows him for a few inches before he settles back and shifts his hooves.
He's fine, for the record. The horse. Four or five years old, a gelding, and decently cared for before now, albeit without any signs of particular pampering.
"I don't know about a name. Do they learn their names? The Antivan didn't say he had one, but..."
"You can teach him," Ellis answers, having moved along to the opposite leg. The soft, coaxing cluck of his tongue is all for the horse as Ellis coaxes one hoof up off the floor. "He'll come when he's called, if you spend the time on the lesson."
The hoof released, Ellis straightens. His hand returns to the horse's shoulder, stroking up and then down his neck.
"You don't need to decide on it now. I was only curious."
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Ellis considers that as he steps up alongside Bastien, hums softly at the sight of the horse lipping along Bastien's tunic.
"It was a good book," he says at last, studying the horse's bright gaze. "It kept me company on watch."
Is biting a sign of health? Ellis is willing to count it as a tentative yes.
"Where did your new friend come from?"
animal cruelty mention cw
"Antiva."
His pause briefly threatens to make that the whole explanation.
"They are not all good at cards. This man owed more than he could pay to me and to another fellow—he was trying to make the money he owed someone else off of me, you know how it goes. He said I could have the horse instead. And I said," with a self-effacing deepening of his accent, "I don't want ze horse! I barely want ze money. And the other fellow, Clifford Hayden, he said he wanted the horse. But I know him, and I have seen him kick a dog minding its own business in the street. So I wanted the horse after all."
The horse bites him. Bastien doesn't flinch, but he does aim a second look over his shoulder, this time stern.
no subject
"Have you decided on a name?"
Bastien seems either unbothered or charmed by the biting, so Ellis doesn't count it against the beast. It suits, somewhat. From the stable floor, he points out, "You're charming enough that I've gone mostly unnoticed."
no subject
He takes a step away. Not to evade further snuffling and biting, just to find a better view for satisfying his curiosity about what Ellis is doing. The horse's nose follows him for a few inches before he settles back and shifts his hooves.
He's fine, for the record. The horse. Four or five years old, a gelding, and decently cared for before now, albeit without any signs of particular pampering.
"I don't know about a name. Do they learn their names? The Antivan didn't say he had one, but..."
no subject
The hoof released, Ellis straightens. His hand returns to the horse's shoulder, stroking up and then down his neck.
"You don't need to decide on it now. I was only curious."