She shivered against the chill. It shouldn't be this cold. Summer was coming. Yet, tonight, she was much colder than she had been at the beginning of spring. She shuddered deeper into her bedroll, the wool scratching at her bare ankles. She felt hollow in her bones.

Numair was typically the one who complained about the chill. She wondered if he could feel it. Serves him right if he can, she thought. If it was up to her, they would be herded together and warm right now. But the mage had decided to go back to their former travel arrangements. He in his bedroll. She in hers.

She swallowed back the hurt, trying not to let it bother her. He had been over apologetic the last few nights, offering to stop at inns, giving her the best of the bread, and the thickest pieces of dried meat. He had even agreed to braid her hair this evening, though he had looked unnerved when she had requested it. She had tried not to lean back into his hands, as his long fingers had threaded through her stream washed curls. She had been afraid he would spook like an unbroken colt and leave her hair half plaited. He had been so uneasy lately. Uneasy and ruminative. Ruminative. She remembered when she had learned that word. It had been around midwinter, and a week of uninhibited immortals crossing into the mortal realms had left her agitated and annoyed. Funny that, despite Daine's mood, the word had been applied to Numair then as well.


"Does it bother you?" Alanna's voice broke through Daine's concentration. She knew the woman had been speaking, but to be honest, she hadn't been listening up until now. She looked up, confused.

"What's that Lioness?" She placed Dark Moon's hoof back on the stall floor. It wouldn't pain him anymore.

Alanna smiled. "I was wondering if it bothers you...Numair being so temperamental all the time." She patted the gelding's neck, and scratched at the place between his ears Diane had once mentioned he loved. "He's been especially fickle since midwinter. His moods are all over the place." She laughed. "I guess that's the price you pay for having so much gift. Magic is tied to emotion, so if you have a lot of magic you are bound to be...excitable" Her smile faded. "My brother was much the same..." she trailed off, a faraway look in her amethyst eyes. "Ruminative as they come."

"Rumin...what?" Daine fought not to roll her eyes. She was tired of everyone using such ridiculous embellished language around here. Why couldn't anyone ever just say what they meant?

The smile returned to Alanna's face. "It means brainy, analytical ..you know, a person who thinks too much and is a little too lost in thought." She tapped her forehead with her forefinger, and Daine laughed.

"He's not that bad," she smirked, and Alanna shot her a disbelieving look. "Yes, he is fair stuck in his head a lot of the time, but he pays attention when he needs to." She bent to inspect Darkmoon's rear hock, running her palm along it.

"I suppose you would say so." Alanna chewed on her fingernail, a contemplative expression on her face.

"And why would I say that?" Daine asked, annoyed again. She hated when people couldn't just speak straight. Why did everyone in this blasted castle have to speak in riddles?

"Calm down youngling," Alanna snorted, "I'm not trying to insult ya." She sounded distinctly like George, and Daine wondered if that is what happened when you were married to someone so long. "I was just realizing that you would feel that way because, no matter his mood, Numair treats you the same." She paused, glancing down the stable isle as if making sure the object of their discussion wasn't lurking around the corner. "He bites the rest of our heads off when he's in one of his pets, but with you he's downright..." she trailed off, and that look of dawning comprehension returned to her face. "Affectionate." She leaned back against the stall door looking thoughtful. "Does he ever get upset with you Daine?"

This time it was Daine's turn to snort. She smoothed her hand over the horse's flank, searching with her magic. "Of course, he does. He had a tantrum this week when I told Jon I was going to that village just north of here to deal with their Griffen problem. He acted like I wanted to go deal with a group of coldfangs. He threatened to lock me up in the tower for the duration of the war." She rolled her eyes, missing the way Alanna nodded her head slowly.

"Yes," Alanna bit her lip, a distant look in her eyes. She nodded again. "like I said, ruminative."

Daine breathed into Darkmoon's nostril, resting forehead against his muzzle. If you ask me, she's the one who's ruminative. She told the horse. He nudged her in agreement.


Daine flipped over onto her back, scowling at the night sky. She hadn't really thought that the word applied to Numair when she first heard it. He got lost in thought a lot, but had always seemed to include her in that thought. Now he was so absent, often staring off, and startled whenever she spoke. She could tell he was hiding something from her. Whatever it was, it seemed to be preoccupying his every thought, and precluding his ability to acknowledge her. Ruminative. She sighed and twisted onto her side, miserable and cold. She missed her Numair. Not just him in her bedroll, but her friend, the one who had always been so "affectionate" with her. She swiped at the tear that escaped, annoyed with herself for being so emotional.

She wondered if she would ever get him back...