Author:
Duke Gregory Hunt
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Date Posted: 10:53:28 11/25/01 Sun
In reply to:
Corthan...Forever seeking....for what I know not, but still I seek. .
's message, " A tall stable hand approachs>>> " on 06:17:39 11/25/01 Sun
Tall nobleman makes his way into the stable, billowing cloak riding the gentle breeze from outside, boots tapping a gentle staccato upon the hard-packed aisle floor. Tight brown curls set off slightly tanned features, complete with dark eyes. Duke makes his way down the aisleway, warm nod given to the young maiden and the stablehand. He'd seen the Young Catalina in the anteroom, but this new stablehand was one he could not place. Ah, Hogwen was always taking on new workers. The man passes them, and arrives at his destination two stalls down. A steel-grey steed raises his head from his flake of hay, fine-tuned Andalusian features displaying a prominant history. Low whicker is loosed as his master rubs his muzzle, content.
[ stable-hand runs up, slightly long red curls framing a round, sincere face. He halts, giving a smile and a very slight bow to his Duke. ] Sir, you be needin' Acero tacked? [ hand reaches for the metal-studded gear hanging nearby. ]
The Duke returns the smile, vague nature apparently usual for this man. A quick glance is given to Catalina, and a smile. Was it possible he'd have heard her conversation with the Glory horse? He returns to his valet and companion, shaking his head. "I will do this on my own, thank you. Return to your own duties, Samson." Duke waves him away, weathered hands sliding the bolt from the door, and leading the steel horse out. Currying the gray horse down, he sets to tacking him up. That done, the man turns, hand 'pon the reins, eyes cast towards the pair admiring the white. Another formal nod, and a twinkle in his rich coffee eyes. "Good day, mademoiselle, monsieur."
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