Action Log: Morning of the 19th.

[brosif]

Characters: The horse formally known as Sif
Open? Yes!
Where: Schwanheim or the woods, depending on the time.
When: Morning of the 19th.
What: The magic peddler gave Sif a very special hat. Too special.
Warnings: Sif is an angry horse, yo.

In the village of Schwanheim, there is a horse in place of a prince. Her color is lovely – a deep, rich brown. Her temperament is not. She runs through the city, vision blurred, knocking over whatever lies in her way in an attempt to leave the village walls. There is a bandage around her front left Fetlock, but it covers no wound.

Being in the city enrages her. Sights and sounds are filtering into her mind in a way she is wholly unused to. She thinks of the face of a peddling man and is enraged further. She will find him.

Comments

[sorcerous]

"I always have a knife," Loki dismisses.

But he understands, and his gaze lingers on her. That's not enough. He has to say more.

"But I never would have used it on a horse. Especially not one like you made."

[brosif]

“I did not know it was you. Only that I was being chased.”

He could have been anyone. Any hunter.

[sorcerous]

"Nonsense. When you heard my voice, you knew it was me."

Though he's not sure, and perhaps it shows, in his voice, in his body.

[brosif]

“I knew it sounded sweet. I knew you wanted me. I knew you had a knife.”

And she is there again. Immobile. She repeats, in her head, steadily:

It sounded sweet. You wanted me. You had a knife.

[sorcerous]

Loki raises his eyes skyward. Only one solution to that: let her find out how to control herself.

Preferably with someone safe.

Preferably with him.

He sighs, and he steps in, and places the hat back on her head.

[brosif]

“No!”

Her protest comes out strangled, for the cords of her throat are already changing when she realizes what Loki has done. The betrayal cuts deeply. When she changes fully into the mare she is angry enough to be in charge of her own mind.

She charges at him. She will hurt him for this.

[sorcerous]

Unfortunately for Sif, in short distances, a human is much quicker than a horse. At dodging, particularly: Loki only has half her limbs to work out, and she is quite unfamiliar with equine reflexes.

As such, she misses him entirely, and he darts off of one tree and up into another.

"Sif!" he calls. "Can you hear me?"

[brosif]

It is true that Sif has no mastery of her limbs in this state. It is a struggle to stop short of the tree, and she is not succesful in avoiding it completely. Her right side crashes into it, bark and dust clinging to her coat.

She can hear him, but his voice is only one noise in a myriad of them. The birds, the river, the grass itself. All the sounds of the forest assail Sif at once. She jerks her long neck about, trying to follow the threads.