It had been some months since Grams passed away and Finchley found herself at the well-reputed Hengstacer Farm. Éogar, son of Hadorgar looked the trim lass - though he mistook her for a boy at first - up and down and eventually nodded. She seemed to have an affinity and respect for animals and none of his mares and stallions seemed ill at ease in her presence. And, if his eyes didn't decieve him, there was a trace amount of experience there despite the general air of whimsy and greenness about her. Still, she seemed such a small sort of person in the wide world.
"Well, lass, let me show you a few horses that might suit you," he explained, leading her over to a neaby pasture. "You'll want one I've bred for both speed and endurance. This one here is hearty stock and will be able to keep a calm head. He's from a fine line so it might be a little costly for one such as yourself--"
"Pardon me, Mister Éogar, but what about that one over there?"
The horse-master looked in the direction Finchley pointed; over towards a seperate pasture where a rather excitable looking mare lingered at the fence, looking this way and that and raking her hoof over the grass, tearing it from the ground. Éogar tutted and shook his head almost disdainfully. "You'll not be wanting that one, miss. She is of good enough stock but is proving to be the most headstrong beast I have ever seen. Most horses will take to a good bit of training with the right incentive but getting a mere saddle on her proves to be a challenge at times. She dislikes having someone on her back and is un-rideable if you ask me-- Um... Miss?"
Though Finchley listened politely enough to his words, she seemed to almost gravitate towards the other pasture, smiling sweetly at the mare, who raised her ears straight up and snorted a little at her approach. "Hello, you," said Finchley extending her hand out, palm up and fingers close together, towards the horse.
"I wouldn't, Miss. She's been known to try and take a finger when she's in a mood."
The mare merely looked at the extended hand for a moment and then slowly brushing her lips against the palm, as if looking for food. When she found that there currently was none, she pulled away and snorted at Finchley, brown eyes meeting green as if to say, 'That's it?'.
The boyish looking woman grinned and then began to climb over the gate, as the horse-master looked on with increasing worry, crossing his arms in front of himself. "I'll not be responsible if you get hurt, Miss," he called out.
"Aye, I understand," replied Finchley as she slowly stepped close to the horse again, both hands extended this time, as if to soothe her. The mare stared at her, gazes locked, and stood still, allowing her to come close until both hands rested on the sides of her nose. Just as carefully, the woman ran her hands over the horse's nose, the sides of her face, then up and down her neck.
Éogar himself began to believe that he'd seen nothing short of a miracle when he happened to spot that familar glimmer in the horse's eye. But before he could open his mouth in warning, the horse set her nose right up against the woman's chest and then tossed the small woman backwards, through the air and onto her bottom a handful of feet away. Finchley landed with a small "Oof!" in the grassy dirt and blinked a few times. But what she did next stopped any words of apology the horse-master had ready upon his tongue: She laughed gaily and pulled herself to her feet, brushing the dirt from her trousers.
"Ooh, you've got a bit of spunk, haven't you?" laughed the woman as the horse looked on, swishing her tail back and forth and looking immensely amused. "Well, that's well and good, innit? Mister Dewitt says you've got to have a bit of character for adventurin'." The horse looked at the small woman and then snorted, tossing her head up and down a little as if to nod. "Clever too, if I do say so myself." At this the horse 'nodded' again, looking especially pleased. Finally; someone who could appreciate her finer qualities!
"Aye, but far too clever for her own good, if you ask me," huffed Éogar, arms still crossed and shaking his head in half disbelief. Perhaps the lass was a bit touched in the head.
However, that deterred the boyish woman not at all. She stepped right on up to the mare once more and casually rested her hand upon her snout again, rubbing at her nose appreciatively. And, strangely enough, the horse froze... and then allowed it. No tossing her head or thinking of pulling another stunt. In fact, the horse seemed to enjoy it.
"How much for her?" asked Finchley.
"Miss, you can't be serious. I wouldn't sell her to anyone and risk my reputation. What if she throws you off? Or causes you some upset?"
"Eh, that's alright with me," said Finchley, staring into those brown eyes again. "Ain't like I've never taken a tumble before. She can be herself if she likes. And I'll let her get to know me too. I think we might make a good team."
"A good t--" Éogar shook his head slowly, rubbing a few fingers across his brow. Most people in these western lands seemed to view animals as a means to an end or mere livestock, fit to do as they are bid. It was a welcome change to see the opposite opinion - the wish for a companion rather than a service - in this strange woman but he still had his doubts.
"What's her name?" asked the woman, still smiling at the beast like she was the most special person in the world.
"Huh, I merely call her beast, as she refuses to come to any names I've given her."
"Hmm, that won't do," said Finchley frowning a bit. She looked the horse over this way and that. "How about... Bonnie?" The horse snorted and tossed her head slightly. Clearly not.
"Scout?" The horse snorted harder. No! Definitely not!
"... Sassy?" The mare whinnied and pawed the ground a bit. Amusing, but no.
"Jewel?" The horse nudged her with her nose and then looked at her in such as way as if to say 'Really?'.
Éogar rolled his eyes to himself as Finchley ran a hand through her hair, thinking hard now. After a moment and looked the horse up and down with a smile and quietly asked, "... Perhaps something proud like... Destiny?"
A moment of silence passed and the horse remained still, as if considering it. Eventually she stepped forward and pressed her nose into the woman's hand. A clear affirmative.
Finchley grinned brightly and pet the mare's nose. "Destiny it is then. You are a proud sort of horse, aren't you?... Well, Mister Éogar, how much for Destiny?"
"... You'll not take no for an answer, will you, Miss?" His answer was a shake of the head and he put his hands on his hips, sighing as he looked skyward. He had his reputation to think of but the idea of having this particular horse off of his hands was mighty tempting. "Mind you, if you take her and you have problems, I'll not take her back."
"That's alright, I'll not be returnin' her," replied Finchley turning to face him as the horse rested her head on the woman's shoulder, eyeing the horse-master challengingly.
The man sighed again, giving into temptation. "However much you're willing to pay to take her off my hands. Given her temperament, I can't rightly ask for as much as the others."
"You got yourself a deal, Mister Éogar," said Finchley, stepping up to the gate with the horse in tow and taking a bag from her hip to count out most of the silver she had gotten from selling most of what Grams had left to her after her passing. "I'll take her with me today."
