The sound of a whicker drew Cee out of her reverie, and she turned her head to search for the source of the sound. It was an automatic response; she could not imagine that the call had been for her, and yet, as she looked, her eyes found an island mare making straight toward her. Cee’s ears twisted back in apprehension, and she threw a glance over her shoulder to find the horse behind her that the stranger was undoubtedly heading for. Yet there was no one.
“Bonjour,” the stranger said, and then there was no doubt it was her being addressed. “Bonjour,” Cee replied thoughtlessly as she scrambled to her feet. She spent a moment marvelling at the mare’s height (equivalent to her own) and her strange tawny coat roaned with white (also somewhat like her own, but in reverse). Then her dark eyes widened and her lips slackened; she hardly heard the remainder of the stranger’s speech. Am I dreaming? Or hallucinating?
“Excusez-moi, did I hear you correct? Have you spoken just now in Francais?” Cee’s English was clumsy, but much clearer than it had once been, thanks to her dutiful practice in the weeks past. Dipping her head, she offered the stranger a shy and rueful smile. “Mes excuses, sometimes my daydreams are too, how do you say... bright? colorful?”
CÉLESTINE
warm me up and breathe me |