Solma strokes Burdock’s velvety nose, smiling as the pony nudges her for treats.
“I ain’t got any, remember?” she chuckles, kissing him between the eyes. “Sorry, boy.”
Burdock nuzzles her in forgiveness. He stands calmly while Solma and scratches his forelock. He seems to know when she needs distracting.
And she does. She keeps her attention firmly fixed on the ponies. She stubbornly refuses to look around her, where she knows the other Whisperers in the camp are giving their group a wide berth, throwing accusing glances their way. It hasn’t been a very warm reception.
Sidewinder has allocated them a patch of grass around an earthen fire pit. The group are permitted to pitch no more than two tents and were firmly instructed not to wander off, which got Solma’s back up.
Bell tried to
