Day 16: Horse

Azur Lane was always a study in contradictions. Weapons of war living normal lives, people who had literally killed each other working together, and a bizarre mixture of wartime frugality and luxury.

Pennsylvania usually leaned toward frugality. They were fighting a war they couldn't afford to lose… and she wouldn't get many chances to sortie if she pissed away all her ammo. Having supplies to fight was a good way to protect them… but there were occasional indulgences.

The island imported enough sugar to make a mountain of caramel and enough booze to drown a small town, but neither interested her massively. Sure, drink was nice, but it was a danger in excess…

Her expensive hobby of choice was… well, it was a hobby. Or at least, it had started that way, with a single pony who wasn't too much of an eater. When Sirens terrorized the sea lanes, something as big and unnecessary as a pony was a low priority…

But she had gotten her horse, and got to circle the island when the tide was low. Great. Maybe it was a bit of a big job, looking after it all by her lonesome, but that was what she signed up for when she asked for a horse. She figured she'd pay someone to look after the horse while she was away– it was only fair– and that would be that.

She was considering how she'd get her hands on horseshoes (maybe the machine shops on base?) when someone joined her in the stable. "Evening, Penn."

"Hey, Nevada. Did you need something?"

"You have a brush?"

"I think you can find one of those in most dorms."

"The horse's brush."

Penn blinked. "It's hanging over there." She gestured towards the rack the brush hung from as she attempted to get a look at the underside of the horse's hooves. She was no farrier, and it looked like the hooves were starting to grow out…

Nevada took the brush and started to go through the horse's mane, once its hoof was back on the ground. "He's a real beaut, Penn. Lucky you."

"He was worth every last commission I had to do."

"He… what's his name?" Nevada asked.

"Haven't given him one yet." Penn admitted, "I was thinking of asking Arizona."

"What about Revere?"

"Like Paul?"

"Do you know any others?" Nevada asked.

"No. Maybe something Irish…?"

"Is that where you got him?"

Pennsylvania grinned. "An Irish Connemara. Descended from hobby horses. A warrior's mount." Perhaps not a knight's horse of choice, but Penn wasn't exactly a knight. She certainly wasn't a skirmisher either, but she liked the thought of a swift and agile horse.

"I can't imagine your rigging working on horseback, Penn."

"I can dream, can't I?" There was an inarguable romance to a hussar. Not the fancy uniform, but the idea of you and a lance, charging into the fray… Perhaps it was fitting she thought the lance the finest of all cavalry weapons. Heavy and unwieldy, eventually doomed by advancing technology… but so powerful.

That would be another vain purchase on top of all the costs of maintaining a horse. Javelin had a spear, but it felt a bit bold to borrow her actual weapon to indulge some idle fantasy… the same issue was there with Saint Louis, compounded by the possibility that a spear that heavy might make her fall off the horse.

(Warhammers and axes were so much smaller than fantasy would make you believe. Metal's heavy!)

"Could I go for a ride, Penn?"

"Sure."

"You know, I'm not the only gal who'd like to give riding a chance."

Port was big. Made sense.

"We were thinking we might be able to help out. You'll need money and someone to look after him while you're gone, right?"

Well, they were all very helpful now, weren't they? Now that the horse was bought. But she supposed that made sense. Penn had to really push to get her horse, and exporting a horse all the way to the base was certainly out there, as ideas came…

How could she complain about people following after her when she took the lead?

From there, the port's informal horse club expanded. There was a pool of money that they paid into for maintaining their horse and stable, and eventually, it grew so big that they could buy another. Seydlitz, Nevada, and Chapayev were fairly constant, Hood and Cheshire came by when the mood struck them…

A few girls simply liked the fact that the horses were there. Not for riding, just because. Owari would occasionally bring by something for Penn's horse– named Pulaski, after some deliberation– and da Vinci would sometimes find inspiration in the flexing of a horse's muscle during a canter… Uranami would also come by to chat with the horses. Odd duck, but sweet.

Sometimes, they'd invite people. A lot of the destroyers were still in that phase where they thought ponies were the most incredible thing in the world (not that they were wrong), but it was also just a nice thing to offer.

Today's visitor made her throat clench, for completely unrelated reasons. Japan's own Nagato was approaching, dressed in puffy pants. It might have been the first time Penn had ever seen Nagato in something other than a dress or skirt.

She curtsied anyway. "Hello, Ms. Pennsylvania. Please take care of me."

Thankfully, Penn and Nevada wouldn't have to worry about the potential implications of a girl with tails riding a horse quite yet. Nagato had nothing in that department, other than some very cute ears, but it still made Penn wonder. Would smell set the horses off? They hadn't spooked near Owari…

"This is Pulaski," Penn said, leading Nagato towards her horse. Chapayev's Vasilisa was a bit more temperamental, trickier to ride.

"He's beautiful," Nagato said.

"He is. You can touch him a bit first, get him used to you before you climb on."

Ever so hesitantly, Nagato laid a hand against the horse's flank. She grinned.

"I'm going to need to touch you a bit to help you mount," Penn said. She wouldn't bother asking Nevada if she minded a clap on the shoulder or whatever, but Nagato was no Nevada.

"Alright."

"Lift your left leg, like you're stepping up, and I'll hold you at the knee and ankle. I'll push you up, and you'll kick your right leg over. Okay?"

She really liked helping the kids– the ships that seemed like kids? Whatever– onto their horses.