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Avoid if triggered by misplaced apostrophe's. (essayel) wrote in morningstar_mnr,

"I'd like that too," Allan admitted. "In fact it's essential cuz I need to see his face again. I think I got his body set up right."

Across a double sized loose box - and how appropriate was that? - Allan had strung up a curtain, from behind it came the soft purr of a humidifier.

"Hang on," he said. "It's going to be a bit steamy in there. Got to keep him wet you see. Also - um - don't let the framework worry you. It looks a bit brutal but it's holding him up."

He pulled back the curtain and a wave of damp air smelling of clay and wet stone and, just very faintly, stables washed over them. Allan turned on a light and there was the framework of wood and bronze rods with a clay horse, slightly more than life sized at its heart. It was that moment when he picked up from a trot to a canter. One hoof planted firmly, one just touching. One ear was back and the head was slightly turned. There was still a lot of work to be done, but the breed, sex and spirit could be determined from the pose and it had the look of Zeus - couldn't be any other horse really.

"Phew smelly," Allan said.