Beau Rosier (illusoiree) wrote in theunboundic, @ 2018-07-29 20:24:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ! time: march 20 - 26, beau rosier, emlyn delaney |
Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat
Who: Beau and Emlyn
What: Wherein Beau is basically a prince on a horse.
When: Tuesday Late Morning, March 22nd
Where: Glynn
It was purely a whim that convinced Beau to go horseback riding that morning. The chance to really get a good look at the countryside he’d been missing seemed like an excellent use of the morning. Besides that, with the weather as nice as it was he might be able to find a good spot to sketch or paint. He had Xavier pull his riding clothes from storage, the suit itself was obviously rather expensive in spite of its general lack of ostentation, made in gray and black. The only decoration the outfit displayed were two small embroidered roses picked out in gold thread on the jacket’s high collar, though they seemed more of a concession to the Rosier family crest than simply designed to be pretty.
The horse that had been saddled up for him was a pale gray stallion, named Aster. He was certainly still small by the standard of a Clovennian horse but actually fairly well-sized for Beau. Aster, as stallions went, was a fairly calm animal seeming only very mildly suspicious of his new rider. Beau, for his part, had done his best to endear himself to the animal early, having appeared at his stall with an apple before he was saddled up. Once they were out in the field, took Beau a bit of time to get used to the rhythm of riding again, sticking close to the grounds as he and Aster became accustomed to each other's temperaments. He found though, as they went further and further away from the house that he could largely trust the horse to follow the trods and deer paths. He needed to correct Aster only very rarely and that meant that for the most part, he could ride and let him mind wander a bit.
It was easy to lose track of time like this, absorbed in thought. To say that Beau was spending this time brooding would be incorrect. Though, of course, one couldn’t be blamed for thinking that, he had the sort of features that seemed designed for a good brood with large dark eyes and a wan complexion. Being home in Glynn was a weight off of his shoulders, he felt freer here than he had in Belailles and it had taken a month and a half of exile and poor choices to make that much clear to him. While he was happier overall, some of the mistakes he had made were difficult not to dwell on just a bit. The questionable company he’d kept, the conversations he’d had, not to mention the odd tension that came with exactly what sort of friendship he and Llewellyn, Calvin, had now that he was gone.
By the time he came back to reality, Beau found that they were very far indeed from the house. He frowned, twisting this way and that, trying to get a bearing for which way they’d come but found only trees spanning in all directions. He sighed softly, looking back down at the horse. “I expect eventually you’ll get hungry and turn back?” He asked with dry amusement, smiling faintly as Aster snorted softly as if in answer. Beau patted the horse’s neck, looking back up. The only hope now was that he might come across a house to ask for directions back in the right direction.
After another half hour of riding, it seemed like a likely choice was ahead, a small farmhouse backed up against a garden and animal pens.