The cream-colored destrier snorted, shook his hair, and took two steps back. "We have to go, Dante," Riley said and caressed the animal's neck.
Even though Riley was hated by the rest of the trainees, he was chosen for the task, and he was a Samrann; a high caste. A stableman came running to tend to his needs.
"Get him saddled up," Riley ordered. Even though he liked to slack, it felt good to push around other people.
The stableman went back shaking his pot belly, and then came carrying a saddle, stirrups, and the like. His head was mostly bald, and he tried to hide it with strands of her hair in vain.
The saddle was strapped and Dante snorted. Riley climbed over and held on to the reins. "if anyone asks," he corrected his step on the stirrups, "don't point to the direction where I went."
