"Come on you moldy old fart!"
Torram threw every inch of his weight - a considerable amount, particularly now that the carpenter trade had managed to put some fresh muscles on his lanky frame - into nudging Mortimer forward a few more steps, but the horse - who had no muscle to speak of, and seemed to be held together by sheer force of will - gave a lazy yawn and deliberately sidestepped, missing Tor's foot by just inches. Torram growled, putting his hands on his hips, and tried to think of some other way to get the skeletal creature moving. Mortimer just grinned his typical grin, the long bone of his tail twitching idly.
"Why can't you just cooperate for ten minutes?" Torram groaned, ignoring Minerva's laughter as she circled above. "Just ten minutes. And then you can go back to... whatever it is that you do when you're not with Birch."
Hearing his master's name, Morty perked up. He danced a few steps, his head bobbing eagerly. Torram sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. When Birch and Mortimer had limped home from a recent exploration, Birch had insisted that Torram take Morty to the stables for a thorough looking over, worried that her tumble had somehow damaged the resilient skeletal beast. It hadn't mattered to Birch that she herself had gotten a concussion, nor that it was (in Tor's opinion, at least) entirely Morty's fault she got one in the first place. So, while she went to lay down for a time, it had fallen to Torram to escort the opinionated, bratty beast all the way to the Castle. Now they were just feet from the entrance and Morty had decided he really would rather not go inside.
"Just a few feet more," Torram said, his voice pleading and gentle as he tried again. "Come on, Morty, they have appl-"
Mortimer dashed ahead, narrowly avoiding running Torram over as he did. Torram, cursing rather creatively under his breath, stomped after. Instead of running to the stall he normally stayed in while Birch was in the castle, Morty had somehow tracked down and apple and was chewing it - rather messily - while staring at... Apparently nothing. Torram called his name and the horse bobbed his head, still chewing his apple and staring into another horse's stall with interest.
"Morty, get over here!" Torram said, his voice heavy with exasperation. "I have to go find the stable master." |