OOM sorta: Milliways Stables, early (early) morning

[ikissdhimbck]

There's a bite in the air this morning. It's not terribly cold, but it's just cool enough to set a fine, chilly mist about the hard earth outside the stables, warranting blankets to be thrown over the horses left outside last night, and the hands of the sole person on the grounds that morning to bury themselves a little deeper into her coat. It's hardly a winter coat, but it's long and warm (and deep red in color), which makes it just enough to ward off the chilly air.

It's only just barely light out, a gray filter turning the whole landscape to twilight and shadow. Much too early for any stable hand to be about their business just yet. But the woman there now, milling about the stalls, visiting horse after horse, is looking to find one stable hand in particular, and she wasn't sleeping anyway. She'd rather wait out here than inside the bar. At least out here she could breathe.

(A little.)

Once the sun rises a bit more and the ground starts to heat, whoever comes by to begin their morning chores will find her about three stalls in from the main entrance, feeding oats to a (rather content-looking) Bay. Her face is somber, but her hands are light and loving as they stroke the animal.

.