It was past noon by the time we set out to the east once more. We’d both stayed in equine form for the rest of our stay, neither of us quite ready to try to share a pallet again, or to speak of all that had happened between us. The plainsmen seemed to accept this without question, and indeed I’d had ribbons braided into both mane and tail by them before I left. Raneld had as well, their bright colors a vivid contrast against the black and white of his coat.
We ran all that day without a word, and halted that night without changing, then moved on the next morning, still as horses. It was strangely peaceful. I knew we were both avoiding things, but I found I wasn’t brooding on it, I just ran, letting the running become all of my world. Flickers of hatred tried to make their way into my mind
