All the rest of that day, Abrial was in a stormy mood.
After lunch, Finley had to go and fulfill a task at the camp garden, so Abrial took to wandering the surrounding hills for some fresh, outside-of-the-stuffy-camp air. She went to see Dal in the stables. He was very happy to see her, nickering and snorting delightedly.
As she nuzzled the soft, jet black fur of his neck, she murmured,
"Dal, what do you think?" her voice was grim. "Do you think I'm spiritually dumb, or whatever? I've wanted to do real magic for so long…Do you think I'm just…useless? Maybe I can't do natural magic at all?"
Dal clicked loudly and stamped his hooves as if to say, You're not useless at all!
Abrial smiled into his fur, her eyes anxious.
______
At dinner, Finley noticed Abrial's mood. Abrial was sitting absently on her cushion, swirling her dumplings around her bowl with her chopsticks with a dejected look on her face.
"Abrial?"
