Kat gasped and spun around, her heart leaping into her throat.
Her hand flew away from the horse, and she stumbled back a step, nearly tripping over her own feet.
Renna stood in the stable doorway, backlit by the growing dawn light.
She was fully dressed in her leather armor, her sword at her hip, but her expression was warm and kind, a gentle smile playing at her lips.
There was no anger in her face, no disapproval.
Just quiet understanding.
Kat’s hands flew to her sides, and she took another step back from the stall, her face burning with shame.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush.
“I know I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to—I just wanted to see—I wasn’t going to hurt him, I promise, I just—”
“He likes you,” Renna said, walking forward.
There was no anger in her voice, only quiet approval.
Something that might have been pleasure.
Kat blinked, confused.
“What?”
Renna stopped beside her and reached up to stroke Stormrunner’s neck, her touch gentle and familiar.
The horse nickered softly, turning its head to nuzzle her shoulder, and Renna smiled.
“Stormrunner.
He’s mine.
And he’s particular about who he lets touch him.” She glanced at Kat, her expression warm.
“But he let you.
More than that—he welcomed you.”
“I…
I didn’t know,” Kat stammered.
“I’ve never been near a horse before.
I didn’t know he was yours.
I’m sorry, I should have asked, I shouldn’t have just—”
“Breathe,” Renna said gently, and there was something almost amused in her tone.
“You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Kat took a shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
“My mother always said I’d spook them.
That I was too clumsy, too nervous.
That I’d hurt them, or they’d hurt me.”
Renna’s expression shifted, something hard flickering in her eyes.
But when she spoke, her voice was still gentle.
“Well, you’re a natural.
Look at him.”
Kat looked.
Stormrunner was standing calmly, his eyes half-closed, his posture relaxed.
He looked…
content.
Peaceful.
“Here,” Renna said, reaching for Kat’s hand.
“Give me your hand.”
Kat hesitated, then extended her hand.
Renna took it gently—her grip was warm and calloused, the hand of someone who worked with weapons and horses—and guided it back to Stormrunner’s neck, placing Kat’s palm flat against the warm coat.
“Feel that?” Renna asked, her voice soft.
“That’s his pulse.
Strong and steady.
If he were nervous or afraid, you’d feel it speed up.
His muscles would tense.
Relaxed.
He trusts you.”
Kat could feel it—the rhythmic thump of the horse’s heartbeat beneath her palm.
It was soothing, grounding, like the ticking of a clock or the rhythm of waves on a shore.
Steady and sure and alive.
“Horses are honest,” Renna continued, her expression kind.
“They don’t lie or pretend.
They can’t hide what they feel.
If they trust you, they show it.
If they don’t, they show that too.
They’ll pin their ears back, toss their heads, move away.
But Stormrunner…” She stroked the horse’s neck with her free hand.
“He’s showing you trust.
That says something about you, Katriana.
Something good.”
Kat’s throat tightened.
No one had ever said something like that to her before.
That she was good.
That an animal’s trust in her meant something positive about who she was.
“I didn’t mean to sneak out,” she said quietly.
“I just…
I woke up early, and everyone was asleep, and I thought…
I don’t know what I thought.
I just wanted to see.
To know what it felt like.”
“You thought you’d come see the horses,” Renna finished, her smile gentle.
“Nothing wrong with that.
I’m an early riser myself.
I was just coming to check on them; make sure they had enough water for the morning.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Renna’s expression remained warm.
“Though next time, you might want to let someone know you’re heading out.
Just so we know where you are—these border towns are safe enough, but it’s good practice.
We’re responsible for your safety, and it’s easier to keep you safe if we know where you are.”
“I will,” Kat promised.
“I’m sorry.
I should have thought—”
“No harm done,” Renna said kindly.
“You’re here, you’re safe, and Stormrunner’s enjoying the attention.
That’s all that matters.”
Kat fell silent, her hand still resting on Stormrunner’s neck.
The horse shifted slightly, and she felt the play of muscle beneath her palm, the living strength of him.
It was amazing, feeling that power, knowing that this creature could hurt her if it wanted to but chose not to.
Chose instead to stand still and let her touch him, to lean into her hand like he was enjoying it.
“So, I take it you’ve never ridden then?” Renna asked.
“No.
Never.” Kat’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t allowed.
My mother said it was too dangerous.”
Renna was quiet for a moment, and when Kat glanced at her, she saw something complicated in the warrior woman’s expression.
Understanding, perhaps.
“Would you like to learn?” Renna asked finally.
Kat’s eyes widened.
“Could I?
Really?”
“Don’t see why not.
Once we reach Blackwoods, if you’re interested, I could teach you.
Or one of the stable masters could—they’re better teachers than I am, honestly.
More patient.” Renna’s smile widened.
“Theron’s future wife should know how to ride.
It’s practical in the North—the terrain isn’t always suited to carriages.
And in winter, sometimes a horse is the only way to get anywhere.”
Theron’s wife.
The words still felt strange, unreal.
Like a title that belonged to someone else, someone more worthy.
But the idea of learning to ride, of having this kind of freedom, of being trusted with something like this…
“I’d like that,” Kat said softly.
“Very much.”
Renna nodded; her expression pleased.
“Then we’ll make it happen.
I’ll talk to Theron about it when we arrive.
He’ll approve—he’s practical about these things.” She gave Stormrunner a final pat.
“Actually, since everyone’s still asleep and we’re both up…
would you like to help me feed them?
All of them could use their breakfast.”
Kat’s heart leaped.
“Really?
You’d let me?”
“Of course,” Renna said, her tone gentle and encouraging.
“They need to eat, and I could use the help.
Besides, it’s a good way to learn about them.
How to approach them, what they like, how to read their moods.”
Kat reluctantly pulled her hand away from Stormrunner, and the horse nickered softly, as though in farewell.
The sound made her smile.
Renna led her to a storage area at the back of the stable where sacks of grain and bundles of hay were kept.
The space smelled strongly of dried grass and oats, and Kat could see tools hanging on the walls—brushes and picks and other implements she didn’t recognize.
“Each horse gets about this much grain,” Renna explained, scooping a measure from one of the sacks.
“And a good armful of hay.
You want to measure it out carefully—too much and they’ll get sick, too little and they won’t have enough energy for the day’s work.” She demonstrated, her movements efficient and practiced.
“And you always approach them calmly and confidently.
They can sense nervousness, but they can also sense kindness.
Just be gentle and steady, and they’ll respond to you.”
Together, they moved from stall to stall.
Renna demonstrated with the first horse—one of the carriage horses, a sturdy gelding with a coat the color of dark honey.
She spoke to him softly as she entered his stall, let him sniff her hand, then poured the grain into his feed bucket and forked fresh hay into the manger.
“See?” she said, stepping back.
“Nothing to it.
You want to try the next one?”