The morning had begun as it had many others for the small woman, s'jira. She woke, just as the pale light of day was touching the sky and slid off the sleeping dress to pull on an earthy, brown dress. She cinched the leather belt about her waist and drew on softleather ankle boots.
Fingers combed through her dark, brown hair that was the color of rich mahogany; from scalp to the layered ends of it until no knots were there. Already a little behind, but she took a moment to leave word on the table in the Loft of where she could be found by Panther, if he came to the Loft and saw her not there.
The end of one finger alighted against the scrap of paper, next to his name and heart weighed, a little heavier every day. It had been a very long time since she had seen him. Perhaps the hunt or travels kept him. Perhaps something within the boundaries of the great, ancient city of RhyDin itself. S'jira did not know. A short brown and black earthenware jar was put on the corner of the parchment to keep it on the table.
She drew in a breath into her lungs, then softly exhaled it. Then she spent a look around the Loft, to see that all was clean and well-kempt before she climbed down to the livery where the men and a boy tended to numerous horses, and a few other animals that those travelling into and throughout the realm had ridden in on.
The small one dipped her head respectfully to the liverymen and accepted the reins of the large, black horse from one of them. She drew the animal over to one of the stalls where there was a crate and a large barrel. She stepped up on the smaller crate and to the barrel, using them as stairs, and took to the back of the horse without the others having to help her up..or having to pull herself up somehow.
Atop such a large horse would have made normally sized men and women of Humankind look small, but at less than five feet, s'jira was even smaller than that. Fingerstips wrapped to reins and saddle horn as she nudged Trygg into movement in the direction of the docks.
Fingers combed through her dark, brown hair that was the color of rich mahogany; from scalp to the layered ends of it until no knots were there. Already a little behind, but she took a moment to leave word on the table in the Loft of where she could be found by Panther, if he came to the Loft and saw her not there.
The end of one finger alighted against the scrap of paper, next to his name and heart weighed, a little heavier every day. It had been a very long time since she had seen him. Perhaps the hunt or travels kept him. Perhaps something within the boundaries of the great, ancient city of RhyDin itself. S'jira did not know. A short brown and black earthenware jar was put on the corner of the parchment to keep it on the table.
She drew in a breath into her lungs, then softly exhaled it. Then she spent a look around the Loft, to see that all was clean and well-kempt before she climbed down to the livery where the men and a boy tended to numerous horses, and a few other animals that those travelling into and throughout the realm had ridden in on.
The small one dipped her head respectfully to the liverymen and accepted the reins of the large, black horse from one of them. She drew the animal over to one of the stalls where there was a crate and a large barrel. She stepped up on the smaller crate and to the barrel, using them as stairs, and took to the back of the horse without the others having to help her up..or having to pull herself up somehow.
Atop such a large horse would have made normally sized men and women of Humankind look small, but at less than five feet, s'jira was even smaller than that. Fingerstips wrapped to reins and saddle horn as she nudged Trygg into movement in the direction of the docks.