Weave as it Will

After she finished patting down Daishar, legs and all, she had to remember to dust her own skirts off. The ends were becoming frayed and dirty, and after walking a while to save the strength of both herself and her horse, it was to become expected. Walking was a fun pastime anyway, and dirt was only part of the fun! It is a good thing I am not due before the Amyrlin. Not that she was really too worried about the Amyrlin seeing her like this. It was well known that they all had their own moments of dirty glory.

She pushed back some stray strands of deep red hair, wild and loose after such a long day—she told herself she would put it up in a second. It was nearing sunset already, and she was still a few miles away from the nearest town. She scraped some mud off of her boots with a stick and then quickly, if not somewhat gracefully, climbed into the saddle. Daishar moved a little uneasily at first but settled down without much of a fuss, standing still, though a bit wild-eyed, as his rider readied herself for what was to be the rest of the day’s journey.

Pulling a string from a pouch at her side, she tied her long hair back and out of her face. It was only when she brought her hands to the reins that she realized she had a little bit of mud on her hands—and probably now on her face and in her hair. She grimaced but calmly wiped it off on her skirts. They were already dirty. No need to fret over keeping them clean. She checked around where she had been standing, making sure she had not left anything on the ground or dropped something a few steps back. After checking her pouches and saddlebag as well, she noted that she indeed had not, which was a good sign.

What was not such a great sign was the rider not far behind her. He, or she, was still far enough away for her not to be able to tell whether or not he was at a gallop or a walk, and she did not feel like sitting and staring for a few more seconds to figure it out. So she was tired, and lazy because of it, so what? If the need arose she would “wake up.” She turned forward and clicked with her tongue. Daishar would have lunged forward had she not had a tight hold on the reins, instead settling for a quick walk she was not quite fond of. She listened for the approach of the oncoming rider, assuming it would not be long before he either passed by or stopped to “talk.” Oh, she just was not in the mood to be talking to strangers, or anyone, for that matter.