As Braemar watched the girl’s expression and heard the tremor in her voice, he felt a little thrill zing through him. She was like a nervous little sparrow in the face of a hawk. Just as he’d hoped, she made him feel taller. Not unlike Cora had. But Braemar didn’t want this girl to feel nervous around him; quite the opposite, in fact.
Therefore it was to his satisfaction when his smalltalk began to have its intended effect on her. He didn’t give a shit about how nice the day was. It might as well have been raining for all he cared. Social niceties were just that - nice, wee little words to help set the mood for the conversation, to lower someone’s guard. It didn’t actually matter what they were.
At the girl’s question, Braemar’s lopsided smile faded and was replaced by a quizzical look. He passed another glance over the height of the falls. “Fuck if I know,” he admitted with a shake of his heavy head, “but I’d wager there’s the word ‘fall’ in it.”
Braemar snorted in good humor, then let his eyes linger on the mare for a few moments. “We’re both newbies then, are we? Better stick together, then. What’s yer name, girl? Might as well get to know the lass I’m stuck with.” He flashed her another coy smile.
4; highland pony; dapple gray; 14.0hh |