Oats by Fernstrike

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Bill stared at the strange silver horse with dewy black eyes. He didn't know the white rider - but Master Samwise would come round presently. Perhaps they were travelling together.

"Where d'you come from, then?" he nickered conversationally, round a mouthful of oats.

The horse flicked his ears, curious. "East of here."

"Where are you going?"

"West of here."

"One of few words, aren't you?"

"To dissuade you speaking with oats in your mouth."

The rider spoke over Bill's indignant whinny. "Peace now, good creatures! Both, speak kindly, whatever you may say. Or we shall have a very long journey indeed!"


Chapter End Notes:

Written for B2MeM 2017. Prompt: Animals.



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