Horses. Horses and horse racing, horses and horse selling. Horse bragging and horse betting. A potluck dinner on the corner road, day-old vegetables: half priced and going fast - going rotten or selling was the question. Good luck charms and beer, half as cheap - betting fuels.

Baruch leaned down to feel along the thick calves of the stallion. Dark colored, with a matted mane like roasting chestnuts - slick with their own oils. He ran a hand down its leg again, appreciating the muscles he felt moving underneath as the stallion backed away and snorted at his touch. The horse made a small click of disapproval and stamped a rear leg in response as Baruch continued to run a hand along it, over it's back and along its shoulders. It let out a sneeze.

He laughed. It wasn't a timid creature, but it didn't appreciate the smaller being in the least. It appreciated the double-knotted ropes around its neck even less, but they kept it standing at its beam for all the buyers to parouse.

"Son! You buying?" a voice behind Baruch demanded his attention and he spun to meet the seller.

"No, Sir." He smiled widely, knowing the man could tell by his looks alone he'd never afford one of these stallions.

"Hands off and move along, you'll scare off the customers."

The boy shrugged in response, it could be true and he certainly wasn't doing anything useful just admiring the horse. He left the buyers area and made a line to the potluck dinner to fetch a lunch for he and his brother.

Baruch loved the horse fair. It brought strange new people and foods and stories - all on horseback! All to be admired and shared for whatever price one could afford.

"Baruch!" the potluck-seller woman called to him and he waved from a distance.

"Marda," he replied on approach, "How is your family?"

"Sick!" she yelped. "All sick, the lot of them. You might want to go check on them for me if you're not busy right now. Fevers and sweats, our oldest won't eat anything either, too sick to even get done some mending around the house."

"Two please." He produced two small tin pales from somewhere in the his sack and adjusted the strap again over his chest and shoulder. "I'm sure they're not that poorly off, Marda, could be they're just skipping work today?" He winked at the suggestion.

"Louses." she grumbled and returned the pales, now filled with bread pudding, back to Baruch. "I saw you over there with that horse, Baruch. You thinking of stealing it and dashing off into the night?"

"Not in broad daylight of course."

"No you're smart, young one, you'll wait until dark and then -"

"Then? Something heroic, I'm certain."

"Theiving, is what! You were born in the wrong place with too many crazy ideas. Don't you start taking after your brother, there, we don't need but one of him in our humble village."

"Enoch's not so awful, Marda, he's built his temple and placed that tablet outside. He just thinks a bit differently, is all."

"Talks to angels, is what he thinks. The man needs to find a wife to settle him down. You start looking for one Baruch, find him a good woman and she'll teach him right where his time should go to. And find yourself one, too, before you start seeing these angels!"

Baruch hooked both thumbs behind the strap across his chest and backed away. "Don't you worry about me, Marda. I'm just the opposite - I only talk with demons!" And with another wink, he turned back into the crowd of the horse fair.

Chestnut mare. He saw her: hair so similarly colored, slick with oils and falling well past her shoulders. Dark caramel skin and a hand shielding her eyes, searching over the crowd back near the seller's stalls. Light-colored sleevless top and long linen skirts falling off her figure in a wave that pulled the young man towards her.

"You came with the horse fair?" Baruch fell into an easy spot by her side, she was a great deal shorter than him and he hoped he wasn't as intimidating as his size felt.

"Do I look so lost?" she asked and gave him a smile.

"Lost? No," he responded lightly, "you look like you're running away."

She turned at this. "But why -"

"And you're looking back to the stalls for your brother." he cut her off, unwilling to give her a chance to leave. You must be bold with horses and wild creatures, let them know you are firm and they will find comfort in that. "It's the similar coloring that gives you away, otherwise you could pass for a person instead. I have a brother as well," he added, "our village tends to be of the opinion that he's not right, says strange things."

"And you don't?" he gave her just the right opening, she knew it so well and smiled queerly at him.

"Come on, I'll show you what I mean." Baruch took the hand that was still shielding her eyes and dove with her back towards the stalls. He moved quickly and his sack bounced against his back but he didn't dare to look back to see if his lunch was spilling, his chestnut mare could decide she'd seen something she didn't like. Chestnut stallion he stopped near the horse and brought them both close in against the posts where the senses reeled against the image of the tied horse and forced a reaction to it. He pulled her hand up in his, cupping both hands around her small one and placing them on the shoulder of the beast. It shuddered slightly and snorted, making her jump back a bit and laugh.

"See?" He pulled his hand back from hers and brought it down across the stallion's mane. "The similar coloring." He wouldn't be so bold to run his hand over the mare's mane, but did nod to the girl's hair.

"Oh." She smiled lightly in understanding, almost sadly. "Chesnut stallion."

"Chestnut mare," he responded.

"Chisiya."

"Baruch."

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I'm pronouncing it "Iseeah" but then my pronunciation often lacks basis in actual language.