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Summary
There is a name burned into the wooden placard hanging in front of one of the stalls. It is not “Zenos,” but it is his name just the same. He brushes his fingers over it, opens the stall, and steps in. He drops to his knees and takes the rope in hand. He is no stranger to a stables—even before this, he was once royalty, and accustomed to equitation. He knows how to tie a rope halter. It is rather a different thing, however, to tie one for use on oneself. The red cord in his hands is of the same sort he’s been tied with in other contexts any number of times, and as he knots it he can appreciate Shasi’s preference. It is not too harsh against the skin as he slips it over his head, adjusting the lay of it and centering the loop beneath his chin.
The shavings that line his stall are scratchy against his knees and shins, but softer than the bare floor would be, and the woody scent of them is almost comforting. He kneels there, breathing deeply, and lets his thoughts drift.
Series
- Part 1 of X'shasi's Petplay Outings