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Saturday Morning

Emmanuel was having an unusual dream about being in some kind of horse racing arena, with a mixture of feral and anthro horses, lined up in some variation of a starting gate that was able to accommodate all of them. A raucous ringing, the individual doors of the gate opened suddenly, and they were anything but off to a race.

The starting gate construct actually moved backward away from them, thirteen equines in a line, not one of them moving forward despite being set free and signaled to run. The ferals stood calmly, their ears up, eyes half-lidded, trying to ignore the sleek and beautiful feline anthros, clad in nothing but their own fur, coyly concealing the most intimate portions of their features by rubbing their bodies against the horses' shoulders and flanks, their forepaws moving suggestively over the barrel of their bellies, all to the complete indifference of the horses themselves.

The anthro equines, all males, were clad in various types of clothing, or very little clothing at all, each and every one posing in some suggestion of power, elegance, sexuality, or all three. They would shift from time to time, looking about with a certain superiority, clearly seeking the source of the attention being fawned upon them, whether eyes or camera lenses. Whatever smiles they might have had on their muzzles were artificial enough to break in a strong wind of even the faintest disapproval.

The Pegasus looked around himself, unable to understand what sort of competition this was supposed to be. Coming out of the thirteenth slot, at the end furthest away from the rails, he took a few steps forward and looked back. Not one of the others had moved half a meter forward on the track. Neither gambler nor runner, Emmanuel had little idea about the specifics of racing, although the notion that everyone was supposed to be running for a goal did cross his mind. He walked casually on a diagonal course, both moving forward and getting closer to the rail - that much had also occurred to him, that the horse closer to the rail had less track to run than the rest, and it was therefore a strategic option. He cast an eye back over his shoulder to notice that none of the twelve other contestants had yet to move the slightest bit forward, although they did seem to be arranging themselves vertically somehow, as if being "on top" was to some advantage.

As he walked at a comfortable pace along the track (no sense running, if no one else was bothering), the young equine had the strange sensation that the race track arena was devoid of spectators. He heard "the roar of the greasepaint," as the old musical's title had it, but he couldn't see anyone anywhere in the stands. His ears pivoted as he walked, and the only thing that he felt sure of was that the focus of all that noise was behind him somewhere. There was no uproar anywhere near where he was, and the air around him was still, without the merest breeze. That, in itself, was curious; he was sure that he felt some puff of wind playing with his forelock, and the scent of coffee... a very good roast, in fact, and he had the urge to shrug his wings a bit in pursuit of that lovely aroma...

Another small puff of wind teased a forelock, brought more coffee scent, and eventually got the equine to open his eyes a bit. The coffee mug was the first thing to come into focus, and the smiling face of the bear that held it was next. The horse felt his own lips curling up into a smile. "That's a lovely way to wake up."

"Lead me not into temptation," the bear said softly. "I can find it myself. Especially with coffee."

The forepaw with the coffee moved back a short distance to allow the Pegasus to sit up on the particularly comfortable couch and allow him enough of a stretch to wake up his muscles sufficiently to take the mug without any fear of spilling its contents. "Thank you, Gavin."

"I seem to recall light cream, two sugars?"

"Perfect." He sampled the dark caramel-colored brew and found that it reminded him at once of other coffees had at the salon. "You must have a special roast that you use at home and work."

"A medium-dark roast, yes." Gavin leaned back, and Emmanuel realized that the bear was seated cross-legged on the floor. Something on the equine's face must have registered in some way, as the bear waved a forepaw nonchalantly. "Seemed the best way to get the aroma of the coffee to you," the ursine smiled. "You were sound asleep, when I first walked in. Thought you might be dreaming."

"I was," he said, shaking his head a little, "but I have no idea what it was all about. I remember smelling coffee in the dream, though, so you must have caught me as I was coming out of it. Something about..." Emmanuel chuckled. "I think I was supposed to be in a horse race, but it wasn't like anything I'd ever seen before. Don't remember much about it now."

"You can think about it in the shower, if you'd like. I'll make breakfast in the meantime. I wasn't sure what you'd like. I promise I'm not stereotyping when I tell you that I'm making oatmeal from proper steel-cut oats! It's a favorite of mine, when I've time to let it simmer for a full hour or so. I've got fresh fruit, as always, and I've got all the other breakfast fixin's, depending upon what you enjoy. Place your order - I'm a great short-order cook!"

Between Emmanuel not wanting to be a demanding guest and Gavin wanting to be the generous host, it took a minute or two to settle on a selection, but afterward, the manedresser accepted a helping paw to stand, and the Pegasus took up his host's invitation from the previous night to make use of the garden-tub shower in the master bath. As promised, a large rubber mat covered most of the floor space of the tub, to guard against hooves slipping out from under him. He'd brought his own cleansing gels, based on his own experience and Gavin's recommendations. His wings took a different type of attention, and less often, to avoid disturbing the delicate balance of oils in his feathers. The bear had tended to his wings perfectly only several days before, so today's attentions were more to his deep caramel-colored coat and other necessary locations.

The thought wasn't lost on the equine as he realized that it had been some time since his last assignation, and longer than that for it to have been someone he really wanted to be with. He washed himself with all due care, without attending overmuch to areas otherwise neglected recently. The body was fine, as various photographers had mentioned (discounting assorted comments about the "wingey-horsey"); it was his heart that was hungry, and his spirit was undernourished as well.

Emmanuel stood under the warm water that fell from the rectangular "rain shower" fixture centered on the ceiling above him. Some 30cm wide and 20cm across, not only did the shower head provide ample flow, but it was tricked out with color-changing LEDs that made the Pegasus wonder what he would look like beneath it, in the dark of night, his wings slightly unfurled. He had to smile at the idea of being a "pin-up" for those who favored equines in their fantasies. Might be a new area of photographic work...

He shook his head, partly to rinse out his white-gold mane, partly to clear his mind. If he was going to make a decision, he needed to do it without trying to convince himself with false images. He worried about abusing Gavin's water heater for a few moments longer, then turned off the water and light show. The towel was plenty large enough for him. He smiled a moment, thinking fondly that the bear's hospitality knew no bounds. There were air blowers in the walls, but just as at the spa, Emmanuel didn't use them; they seemed to ruffle his feathers more than necessary, and sometimes a few loose ones would drop out. That's one thing he wouldn't have to worry about anymore if he...

The reflection in the mirror gazed back at him with a certain melancholic disapproval. The objects in question shifted, as if aware that they were being talked about, or perhaps being threatened. Emmanuel looked at them, looked at himself, wondering if they really were separate things. His stomach twisted again at the thought. It was not a painless process in any sense of the adjective. He breathed in slowly, deeply, three times, pushing the decision away again. If that breakfast tasted half as good as it smelled, he didn't need anything to interfere with his appetite.

* * * * * * * * * *

Emmanuel was wrong: Breakfast tasted even better than it had smelled. Finishing off the oatmeal with fresh fruit and a little heavy cream was like dessert. "Gavin, you are without doubt the best thing I've ever woken up to... if I may say it that way."

The bear chuckled a little. (Could that be a touch of sadness the stallion heard?). "I'll take that as a proper compliment," he said, rising to clear the table. The Pegasus joined him, despite brief protestations to the contrary, and all the evidence of the repast was soon removed from view. "I don't get to cook for guests very often, and even then, they aren't nearly as complimentary."

"Then you need a better class of houseguest!" As the bear rinsed off dishes briefly, the equine leaned against the counter, folding his arms. "So... what's on the agenda for the day?"

"Whatever you may wish, my friend. You've been invited here to rest, recuperate, enjoy the country air, and meet some of your distant cousins. Brady and Boyce have invited you to take a dip later, if you'd like to, and of course you're welcome to mingle with the horses as much as you wish. Did you want to try riding?"

The Pegasus brushed a forepaw against the back of his neck, unable to stop the cliché mannerism before it started. "I'm not at all sure that's a good idea."

Gavin only nodded. "Not everyone wants to ride. Just know that I'd be glad to help, if you'd like to try. Meanwhile, I was going to go down to the stables for a while myself. Care to join me?"

"Gonna rope me into doing the grooming?"

"Gonna try to."

* * * * * * * * * *

The day had broken with few clouds in an otherwise spectacularly clear sky, and the temperatures promised to be warm but reasonable for the time of year. Emmanuel, clad only in shorts and an A-frame shirt that provided extra room for the bases of his wings, couldn't help but feel free and easy in body, mind, and spirit. As Gavin had pointed out, "country air was good for you." The feeling of free space was no less intoxicating. In the city, any sidewalk could be crowded with even two other furs walking side by side next to him; he did tend to take up a bit of space, even with his wings furled (or, as part of his mind tried to remind him, even without wings). Here, there seemed to be more space than anyone could know what to do with. The city had its "vibe," and so did the country. Big city, bright lights, excitement and discovery around every corner, but when one had to sleep, in that city that never sleeps, there was nothing that really kept the mind quiet, kept the heart safe, let the body relax completely. In this way, at least, the country won the relaxation contest paws-down.

"Excuse me for a minute," Gavin said, patting the equine's arm briefly. The bear veered from his course toward the barn to follow the athletic puma who, stripped to the waist, was guiding a wheelbarrow full of what Emmanuel assumed was "muck" toward some location away from the stables. The Pegasus remembered that Gavin had said that he would have to apologize for embarrassing the stable-paw yesterday. In view of how the puma (Shane, he recalled) had responded to the comment, the equine wasn't at all sure how the cat would react.

Walking into the barn, Emmanuel was faintly surprised to see a large horse tethered loosely by the head inside the barn, standing calmly as one of the twins - Boyce, he thought - used a palm-sized brush in short strokes on the horse's hide. Without missing a stroke, the otter looked up and hailed him. "Good morning! Sleep well?"

"All too well, I think." As with last evening, he approached his distant cousin slowly, keeping his voice well-modulated. "Unless I miss my guess, this is the infamous Jason Imperious Three-Socks." He gestured to the white hair that ran partway up three of the four legs on the otherwise black stallion. The horse stood nearly a full two meters at the shoulder, huge even for a member of this noble species. Emmanuel had noted the horse, in an off-paw way, when the equine was still out in the fields the evening before. The distance made size difficult to estimate, and truth told, the Pegasus was more than a bit intimidated.

Boyce grinned up at him. "Definitely. You see why I said that you could ride, if you wish." He continued to brush out the horse's coat, and the equine was clearly enjoying it. "He's not a full-blood Shire; his sire was half, and it definitely shows through. We have at least two sets of stirrups that are made for hoofers, if you'll pardon the term." The otter grinned. "Truth is, nearly everyone benefits by having a covering on their hindpaws. That pointed-toe thing you see on pawcovers used by folks riding feral horses? Helps to catch the stirrup more easily, if the hindpaw slips loose. Equines like yourself actually benefit from both the covers and a slightly different angle to the stirrups. Brady and I would be glad to teach you."

"For now," the Pegasus said, reaching slowly, palm-up, toward the great stallion before him, "I think I'll start with saying hello."

Jason's movements were slightly limited by the straps holding his head in place for the ease of Boyce's brushing, but the regal beast didn't shy. Emmanuel kept his wings still, as he had for the others he'd met yesterday, and before long, The Imperious One had lowered his muzzle toward the outstretched paw and nuzzled it gently. As he had with Revy, the Pegasus let his forepaw move slowly upward to touch the cheek softly, and Jason responded with a snort through his nostrils. The horse pulled back slightly, and Emmanuel resisted the urge to pull his forepaw away quickly. He let his arm fall slowly to the side, not quite sure what to do next.

"No problem," Boyce assured him softly. "He does live up to his middle name, and often. I still owe him an apple, which he gets after his grooming. He probably thought you had it for him, and he's being persnickety." The otter moved up closer to the horse's head, petting him along his neck. "Not yet, your majesty," he grinned. "Still a bit more brushing to do."

"Hope I didn't disrupt anything."

"Not at all. Here, come around to his other side. Stay close to his head for just a moment, okay?"

Emmanuel did as asked. He noticed Boyce running a webbed forepaw gently along the horse's flank and rump as he came around, his voice a little bit louder than before. "You're staying within his sight, and I'm making sure he knows where I am by touch and by sound. No surprises, especially while his head is tethered. Helps keep him calm." The otter came round to stand by Emmanuel, reaching over to pet Jason's neck gently, looking up into the eyes of the Pegasus. "Our horses like to know who's near them. He could look around, except for the tether holding his head. And to answer your question, it's to help him stand still for me."

The winged equine laughed. "Yup, that was the next question. And then one more after that." He looked to Jason and asked softly, "Did I startle you?"

Emmanuel didn't expect a verbal answer, but he looked to the horse to see if he could get a clue, wondering if perhaps the intent of the question would come through. Boyce didn't laugh at the behavior at all.

"Maybe just a little," the otter said softly. "But mostly, he wants his apple. I'd better finish up. Unless you'd like to try?"

"You brush; I'll fetch an apple." The Pegasus smiled a little, as a nicker from the horse told him that the stallion knew exactly what that particular word meant. Still moving just a bit slowly, he ducked back under the tether and walked to the rooms nearest the doors to the house and, in the tack room, found the stash of apples in a slightly incongruous plastic bin rather than the anticipated wooden barrel. Since Jason was a big horse, Emmanuel selected a big, bright red apple. Had he not just had breakfast, he might have eaten it himself.

Exiting the tack room, he found himself face to face with the athletic puma that he'd seen last evening. The hired paw looked no less irritated than he had before, and his muscles clearly showed that he'd been performing strenuous duty this morning. The smell of sweat on him was tinged with something darker and more threatening. The look in his eye suggested that he was about to accuse the Pegasus of stealing apples. The stallion tried courtesy. "Good morning, Shane."

The cat said nothing, turning on his hindpaws and exiting the stable. He brushed past Gavin as if the bear weren't even there and stormed out of the area, wreathed in disapproval and disgust. The old manedresser sighed heavily, smiling sadly at his guest. "My apology didn't seem to do much good," he said with a resigned air.

"You did what you could. Maybe I shouldn't stay..."

"Nonsense!" the bear insisted. "I won't have my guests disturbed by mere rudeness, his or mine. You were offered a weekend in the country, and that's what you shall have, even if I have to sing the entire Sondheim musical from memory!"

Emmanuel couldn't have stopped his laughter if he'd tried. "Good thing you picked a musical that I've actually seen!" As he chortled further, he felt himself soundly bumped from behind.

"Jason, naughty!" Gavin grinned as the Pegasus looked around to see The Imperious One barely restrained by Boyce's grip on the tether, his nose pushing against Emmanuel's arm. Clearly, grooming time was over, and there was something bright red in view that he wanted.

Boyce chuckled. "Palm flat, or he may try taking your fingers with the apple!"

"Not really," the old bear smiled softly, "but he might be eager enough to be clumsy. You okay with this?"

"Let's try." Emmanuel made his forepaw flat, fingers bent slightly down, and presented the apple to He Who Deserves His Treat, sketching a small bow toward his distant cousin. Jason seemed to consider this and, realizing that he was being given his due respect from another stallion (albeit a rather strange-looking one), he lowered his head slowly and took the apple carefully between his great square teeth, nickering softly.

Boyce and Gavin's eyes widened in something like surprise. Jason chewed, about half of the apple falling back into Emmanuel's forepaw. The Pegasus caught it, his forepaw staying still as the stallion took his time enjoying the first half of his treat. Emmanuel's place (for now, at least) had been made clear, and Jason wasn't about to rush the enjoyment of his rightfully-earned fruit. When he'd chewed and swallowed the first half, he bent again to the outstretched forepaw, took the rest equally carefully, and Emmanuel dared to lower his paw slowly. Finishing off the treat, Jason moved slightly closer to the Pegasus and pushed forward his nose to nuzzle the winged horse's neck. Taking his cue, Emmanuel reached up to pet the horse's neck in something close to a lover's embrace. This lasted only a quarter minute, perhaps, before Jason decided that it was time for him to go enjoy the pastureland. What crossed Emmanuel's mind was the strange feeling that the communication was familiar, like remembering another language scarcely learned in colthood. He realized that he wouldn't mind taking a refresher course.

The Pegasus watched as Boyce led Jason (or, given the difference in size, perhaps vice versa) to the enclosed portion of pasture and let him in through the gate. Only then did the otter unfasten the tether from what Emmanuel could only call the harness. He was sure that horse tack probably had its own set of names for the various pieces; after all, "harness" sounded rather canine, and no proud stallion would let himself be equated thus. Nothing wrong with canines, mind you, but respect above all, naturally.

"Are you sure you've never been around ferals before?" Gavin asked softly.

"Never."

"You know the language."

Emmanuel started briefly, wondering if the bear had somehow read his mind. Gently, Gavin took his arm and said, "I think Brady has Revy ready for you, if you'd like to whitewash the fence a bit."

The Pegasus laughed and let himself be led gently back into the stables. The younger otter twin had indeed brought Reverberation from her stall and had her tethered into position in the middle of the alley. The stallion paused in front of the mare to offer his forepaw as he has the previous evening, and it was clear that Revy remembered quite clearly who this handsome if oddly-built fellow was. He cupped her cheek as before, his other forepaw petting her neck to the other side. "Good morning to you, Revy," he said softly. "Will you help me learn?"

He had the impression all at once that, if Revy were a therian mare, she'd have hugged him. He took the soft blow as a sign of approval and moved carefully under the tether, keeping close to her head so that she could see him.

Brady stood near to the mare's shoulder, showing implements in his forepaws. "Curry comb. Body brush. The curry comb is to help bring dirt, loose hairs, and even parasites from down in the coat. Once loosened up, the body brush dusts it all off and helps smooth the coat. There's other things about horse grooming, some of which Gavin has probably done for you also, or maybe you've done them yourself."

"He's taken the picks to my hooves, yes, and as you can see, he's kept my mane, tail, and feathers in excellent form." The Pegasus smiled. "So this is a dry procedure?"

"For today, yes." The otter pet Revy's side gently. "We give them proper shampoos too, but even then, we do this first; without it..."

"...the dirt gets wet, sticks, and becomes like rocks." Emmanuel visibly shivered. "Yeah, that part I know! Photo shoots in constructions areas, sands at the beach, dusty plains... Even clothing doesn't keep all of it out of your coat." He nodded. "That body brush looks like something I'd use on myself, generally, but I also know how where and how hard to brush. How do I know I'm doing right by Revy?"

"Take a look at what I do; see if there's anything different about how you'd brush out your own coat." Brady began up on Revy's neck, making short, circular strokes through the coat, occasionally knocking it against the wooden back of the body brush to loosen any accumulated detritus. "Short, firm strokes. This part is a massage, in a lot of ways."

"You've been doing this a while," the Pegasus observed. "I'm not sure I groom myself half so well."

"One way mandressers are just like dentists," Gavin bemoaned with a grin. "No one ever brushes the way we tell them to!"

Emmanuel, suitable to his species, offered the bilabial fricative most often referred to as a "horse laugh." Amusingly enough, Revy copied the sentiment shortly after, whether from sheer imitation or affirmative agreement, no one could say. Brady passed over the curry comb - a round, palm-sized, rubber-like implement bearing thick "teeth" and a loop around the back to slip a forepaw through - and, after only a moment's hesitation, Emmanuel began imitating the otter's actions. With only two very slight corrections from Brady, the Pegasus began to find a rhythm to the grooming and worked his way right through the mare's coat. Before he realized it, he had pretty well combed through her entire left side.

He placed an empty forepaw gently on the mare's rump and spoke up slightly. "Comin' round the other side, Revy; how're you doing?"

The mare offered a soft nicker, not moving a centimeter. Was she responding to the question, Emmanuel wondered, or merely to the sounds that represented the name that we so-called sentients had given to her? The point was more or less moot, since Revy had not shifted place, not shied; her ears were up and turned back behind her, and her tail swung gently. Gavin had spoken a bit about the secret language of horses, and all these signs were good ones. More than that, though, the Pegasus simply had the feeling of the mare's relaxation, perhaps from an unconscious understanding of her body language. He continued the grooming, his arm getting a little tired, but not bad. What he really felt, most strangely of all, was that he was being given something of a privilege, and he found himself taking it with all appropriate seriousness.

"You're going to work me out of a job!" Brady chuckled. "Want me elsewhere, boss?"

"If Emmanuel doesn't mind finishing up here...?" Gavin asked openly.

The Pegasus grinned. "I think I can finish off the fence," he chuckled. "I'll pay you the quarter later."

Gavin completed the overseeing, demonstrating the use of the body brush, and then the face curry comb, which had much finer bristles and needed a much more careful touch. Revy showed nothing but patience during the entire procedure, and Emmanuel found himself kissing the mare tenderly on her forehead. "Don't think I do that for just any female," he whispered to her.

"I'll take care of the mane and tail today," Gavin offered, bringing forth a spray bottle from where the otter had left it nearby. "It's a little easier for you, because you might not mind a gentle pulling from time to time; with our horses, the best they can do is let you know they're uncomfortable, and it's wise not to try the same thing again."

"Communication is key," Emmanuel observed. He watched as Gavin sprayed the mane with a solution that might be something like conditioner or detangling solution, then set about working it through the fine, long hair with his fingers. When all seemed well, he brought forth a mane and tail brush that looked remarkably similar to those used in the shop. He smiled, keeping Revy's attention by stroking her gently against her cheek, the way that she enjoyed it. "Royal treatment today, Revy," he said softly. "Pets and grooming all at once."

"You'll spoil her," Gavin grinned. "Not that she's not already a bit spoiled. But that's sort of how we are. They're our family."

Revy's tail was given the same treatment, and after, a check of her hooves showed nothing alarming short of some grit that was quickly dealt with. As Gavin released the part of the tether that had helped keep the mare in place, Emmanuel looked about to find the rest of the stalls empty. "Last client for the day?" he quipped.

"Would you get a you-know-what while I start leading her to the pasture?"

"Short, tall, grande, or venti?"

"Spending too much cash on coffee, are we?" Gavin laughed. "Medium-ish will do her fine."

The Pegasus selected a proper treat from the bin and met the mare and her guide at the entrance to the stables. As with Jason, he offered the apple from the flat of his palm. Revy was a bit more excited, perhaps from being the last; most of the apple went in one bite, and when the rest was offered, a slight touch of teeth came with it. No actual biting, and nothing broke the skin, but Emmanuel was impressed by the need to be cautious. The mare seemed slightly apologetic, an ear twitching and a look in her eye that seemed to hope that she would be forgiven. The stallion petted her nose and cheek again - all is forgiven. He walked the short way to the pastures and opened the gate for her; Gavin released the tether, and Revy walked nonchalantly away. About a dozen meters along on her walk, her tail lifted high, and she produced a few - as they were known - horse apples of her own.

"I wouldn't take that personally," Gavin quipped.

"I tell ya," Emmanuel offered, adjusting an invisible tie about his neck, "I can't get no respect."