|
Post by Tiggs on Sept 28, 2009 13:22:13 GMT
Kessa was pleased with the attention. She nosed Sam, sniffing at his pockets. She trusted the man, and with his nearness, she did not mind the other human pawing at her stomach. She’d come to interpret the strange touch as a man’s version of a nuzzle, and frankly the affection was enjoyable. Men could give scratches that no stallion could.
Molly had been about to start her way toward the hut when the man suddenly grabbed her. Stricken, she froze. But the man simply rested her hand on the mare’s stomach. She was confused until she felt the foal shift under her hand. Amazed, she rubbed her hand over the mare’s flank before she realised the man’s hand still rested over hers. She flushed brightly and scowling, she took her hand back.
Covering her embarrassment, she turned and ducked out of the paddock, striding purposefully up the porch steps. Once inside, she shuddered and rubbed the back of her hand. She hated being touched, especially by men. Sam might have meant well, but she was going to have to set some personal space boundaries.
She refused to leave her room until she could barely see. The sun cast only a glow over the sky, and so she was forced to venture out in search of a lantern of sorts. She came across Sam in the main room, busy with something over the hearth. Leaving him to it, she began looking in the ramshackle cupboards for something to light her room.
|
|