The Missing Stone

Names

The small lights, Mildred finds, are actually torches various merchants and travelers use to light their way. They're all clustered together in a square, most shops currently closing up for the evening. She walks past a merchant, her plum hair almost purple in the torchlight. The merchant is packing up a various array of rings and plants when Mildred pads by, her eyes suddenly like the daggers at Mildred's hip, sharp and piercing.

Mildred pays her no mind, following the sound of horses scuffing. She hops up a stack of supply crates and onto a low wall, her tail flicking to keep her balanced. A neigh resounds from her left, followed by a low voice. Mildred hops down from the wall, bounding with the momentum, and rounds the corner.

The cobblestone gives way to soft light dirt, the stable doors closed, except one. The rider from earlier stands in front of his horse, feeding it treats and murmuring in a hushed voice, his other hand combing through the horse's mane.

Despite the man nearly killing Mildred, she relaxes around him. He obviously didn't mean it, and judging by the size of structure and the fact that a war is going on then he is probably a scout keeping a lookout for anyone with ill intentions. Mildred moves to the other side of the stable door, out of sight and warm. Even with the smell of hay and the faint stench of manure, Mildred finds herself curling up on a pile of hay, watching the rider groom his horse.

His lime green eyes are warm and kind, his hands gentle and practiced. His hair is grey, which confuses Mildred somewhat, but then she remembers the plum-haired merchant and how she didn't even give her hair color a second thought and instead focuses on how the bow and lance on his back glints in the torchlight.

His lance stance was poor. Mildred blinks at her thoughts. Since when-

"Oh, you again." The rider's voice snaps Mildred out of whatever reverie she was in, her ears flicking. She thought she was out of sight- oh. She twists her head around to look at her traitorous tail curling innocently, as if it didn't just give away her presence.

The rider slowly kneels down by Mildred and holds out a gloved hand full of treats. She stands and awkwardly tries to grab them with her paws, forgetting that she doesn't have opposable thumbs in this form. She frowns, her facial muscles contorting slightly. She will have to do it the hard way.

Mildred bends her head and snaps up a treat into her mouth, the savory sweetness making her hum- no, purr- in satisfaction. She feels a gloved hand slide down her neck to her back. Mildred eats all the treats from the rider's hand, feeling like a spoiled child when he pulls his hands away. He has a small smile on his face, and Mildred tilts her head at him. His eyes drift lower, to her bluish-green glowing amulet, and carefully holds it between his fingers.

"Do you have an owner?" Mildred tried to answer no, but what comes out is a "meow". Obviously the rider had asked the question rhetorically, not expecting anyone to answer. Suddenly Mildred hears footsteps coming from her left, her ear swiveling to the side instinctively.

"Ashe, it's time to... oh." Another person has entered the stables, spotting Mildred by the rider. His hair and eyes are a pale green and almost glowing in the dark like her amulet. He wears armor on his midriff and shoulders, forearms, specifically his left knee. A curious choice, but even more curious is the state of the sleeves of his coat. They look far too long to fit on the man properly had he worn it like a regular coat, instead, two holes for the arms are cut in the middle of the sleeves, the other half hanging by his forearms. Even with the strange choice of clothing, Mildred thinks it suits him.

"I found this one on my patrol earlier," Ashe says, petting Mildred's head again. She finds the contact enjoyable. He turns pleading eyes on the newcomer. "Can we keep her? Please professor..."