Hello, Stella here. Not much to say today so, enjoy! I do not own the Inheritance Cycle or its characters, Christopher Paolini does. He has a really awesome last name . . .
After about 20 minutes of simultaneously talking to Dahlia and periodically checking on Arianna mentally, (Jeez that's hard to do) the family decided to go and see the animals that I had in therapy.
Looking outside, I was surprised to find that the rain had stopped. We all walked out into the clean, fresh air. Dahlia and I paused for a moment on the porch to draw in the cool moisture laden wind. Then we walked to the barn chatting amiably the whole time.
Once there I introduced them to the horses first. There was Andy the 5-year-old polamino stallion with anxiety problems. Rockelle the 3-year-old paint mare with a foal on the way. Fireball the chestnut gelding, age 3, with anger management issues. Onyx the 6-year-old white mare who had trauma. Her name came from the unusual black star on her forehead. And Arion my handsome stallion, that I raised from a foal. He had a gleaming amber-colored coat with a silky ebony mane and tail. His eyes were odd. Odd in the sense that they were green instead of brown, but I love him for that reason. He runs so fast that I named him Arion after the greek myth of the swiftly galloping stallion.
Dahlia, Mom, and Dad all remembered Arion, Fireball, and Onyx, but Andy and Rockelle were both new. After all of them showed sufficient attention to my horses, I had a little surprise for my little sis. Taking her hand, I led her to a new paddock in the back of the barn.
A white-tailed, silver bay gelding was galumphing about the twisted oak tree in the middle of it. Mom and Dad shot me dubious looks, as if they understood what was going on. To prove my point, while Dahlia was playing with him, my parents leaned towards me and asked how much the pony had cost. I murmured my reply.
"One of my frequent customer's mares had a foal and her couldn't keep her, so he gave her to me for free. I couldn't think of anyone else who might want her except for Dahlia, I mean you know how she bugs me for a horse." They both nodded in reluctant agreement. The horse thing was one of the few problems my parents had with Dahlia.
"But where can we keep it, Pheoria? We live in Oklahoma city, you know that." Said Dad, a deep frown line slashing between his eyebrows.
"It's ok, the gelding can live here. Lia can hang out with her whenever you guys come to visit, and I can take care of her the rest of the time."
"Well," said Mom, the word riding on a sigh. "It is close to Christmas so . . . ok." She pulled me into a hug and pressed a quick kiss on my forehead. "Thanks for thinking of your sister. Now you two go have some fun while your father and I take a walk."
As they strolled off, arm in arm, I felt a deep surge of appreciation and love for these two wonderful people who I had the privilege to call parents.
Just as I turned away, Dahlia rushed up breathless and red-faced asking, "Can I keep him? What did Mom and Dad say?"
"Yes you can, but he has to stay here while you're away, and Mom and Dad said that they're going for a walk. Soooooo, you wanna come inside and watch a movie? I have chocolate carame-"
"Chocolate caramel popcorn? Yes!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hand and practically dragging me back to the house. I laughed as she pulled me along and thought, 'Only Dahlia.'