Chapter#3. Rescuers Down Under
Quatre sat at his desk, reading his newspaper dispassionately. A dejected sigh burst from him as he set the paper down and stood up. He lived in a shared mansion with the other Pilots and Coherts from the War, but even still he felt lonely.
"Pagan," he said to the older man as he walked down the stairs into the main hall, "have you seen Rashid lately?"
"He's down by the stables, Mr. Winner," the older man bestowed upon him a quick bow before making his way to the kitchen.
"Hn." Was all Quatre said as he went out the back door and followed the path to the stable. Rashid, having nothing to do and really no need to protect his master very much, had taken it upon himself to raise Arabian horses, then sell them to track owners for exuberant fees. It all worked out in the end and now Winner Arabians were prized over all other horses and were each a rather hefty sum. But they were worth it.
"Master Quatre," Rashid said cheerfully as the blonde man walked up, "how may I help you?"
"I was thinking of taking a break from my busy work schedule. Shall we go get a horse ready?"
"Yes, Master Quatre. Melessandra's Vision?"
Quatre nodded sharply, "sure. I haven't ridden ol' Sandy for a while."
After disposing of his sports coat, climbing up on the horse, and putting it through its paces, he dashed across the beach, which conveniently the Mansion was built next to.
They flew across the sand and his melancholy disposition seemed to disappear as he laughed, the wind sweeping back his silvery blonde hair.
However, his peace was soon disturbed as a scream pierced the air and a slim figure dashed up like flotsam coming in from the sea. Following behind the figure were two men in black, with guns at their sides.
Quatre, ever the rescuer even if he was no longer a Gundam Pilot, sped up, urging Sandy on until he'd gone past the pursuers and was parallel with the pursued. While with one hand he held the reins, the other was reaching out to the person who conviently recognized a rescuer when it saw one and grabbed hold, swinging up behind the rich Arabian. With not a moment to lose Quatre sped up again, leaving the men in black to eat their dust.
Quatre sat at his desk, reading his newspaper dispassionately. A dejected sigh burst from him as he set the paper down and stood up. He lived in a shared mansion with the other Pilots and Coherts from the War, but even still he felt lonely.
"Pagan," he said to the older man as he walked down the stairs into the main hall, "have you seen Rashid lately?"
"He's down by the stables, Mr. Winner," the older man bestowed upon him a quick bow before making his way to the kitchen.
"Hn." Was all Quatre said as he went out the back door and followed the path to the stable. Rashid, having nothing to do and really no need to protect his master very much, had taken it upon himself to raise Arabian horses, then sell them to track owners for exuberant fees. It all worked out in the end and now Winner Arabians were prized over all other horses and were each a rather hefty sum. But they were worth it.
"Master Quatre," Rashid said cheerfully as the blonde man walked up, "how may I help you?"
"I was thinking of taking a break from my busy work schedule. Shall we go get a horse ready?"
"Yes, Master Quatre. Melessandra's Vision?"
Quatre nodded sharply, "sure. I haven't ridden ol' Sandy for a while."
After disposing of his sports coat, climbing up on the horse, and putting it through its paces, he dashed across the beach, which conveniently the Mansion was built next to.
They flew across the sand and his melancholy disposition seemed to disappear as he laughed, the wind sweeping back his silvery blonde hair.
However, his peace was soon disturbed as a scream pierced the air and a slim figure dashed up like flotsam coming in from the sea. Following behind the figure were two men in black, with guns at their sides.
Quatre, ever the rescuer even if he was no longer a Gundam Pilot, sped up, urging Sandy on until he'd gone past the pursuers and was parallel with the pursued. While with one hand he held the reins, the other was reaching out to the person who conviently recognized a rescuer when it saw one and grabbed hold, swinging up behind the rich Arabian. With not a moment to lose Quatre sped up again, leaving the men in black to eat their dust.