“Oh, sure, yeah I can do that,” I say quickly before turning and grabbing his reins. I rub my hand down his snout gently and he leans into the touch.
“Careful,” Bastian calls across the campsite to me. “He’s a bit of an asshole.”
“Aw, how sweet. Like father, like son,” I say as I continue to stroke the velvety fur of his nose. I hear a grumble of disagreement come from Bastian but choose to ignore it. “You’re not a little shit, are you? You’re such a good boy. Yes, you are,” I coo, and he huffs air happily into my hand. “Are you thirsty, buddy? Wanna go for a little walk for a drink?” I swear to thegods this horse nods his head. “Okay, let’s go then,” I say as I tug gently on his reins and lead Puck down to the riverbank.
By the time Puck has been suitably watered and we return to the camp, Bastian has already cleaned the rabbit and began cooking it. I’m starting to realize the request to take care of the horse was his way of letting me have some space and avoiding seeing him prepare the meat for cooking. It seems hedoesunderstand my weird aversion. And my heart melts a little at the fact that he’s done that for me. That he made sure to take that care with me. Fuck. He’s really not helping my attraction towards him. The fact that he was an asshole made it easier to admire his appearance but still keep him far, far away from any emotional space. But with him no longer behaving like an asshole? I fear my heart is in danger. Very, very big danger.
I plop myself down on a log that Bastian must have pulled over while I watered the horse. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Puck is nothing but a gentle giant.” I flash a bright teasing smile in his direction as he rotates the rabbit meat over the fire.
He gives me a look that screams his annoyance. “That fucker nearly took off my hand multiple times. He is in no way agentle giant. More like a giant asshole.”
The giant asshole in question lets out a snort of disagreement from where he grazes nearby. I burst out laughing. “He very much disagrees with your assessment,” I gasp out between laughs.
Bastian rolls his eyes but returns his focus to the task at hand instead of replying. I twist around to make eye contact with Puck and give him a wink and I swear he nods excitedly back at me. “Gods, I love that horse.”
“I’m sure he’s glad someone does,” Bastian grumbles out as he passes me a skewered piece of charred meat.
We both make quick work of devouring our meal and once we’ve polished it off, Bastian rises to his feet and gestures for meto follow him as he walks several feet from the fire to a spot that’s free of trees and obstacles.
“Self-defense,” Bastian announces as I join him. “It’s incredibly important for you, especially since you don’t currently have access to your magic. You never know when you’ll need to defend yourself against an attack so it will be useful for you to have some basic skills,” he explains.
I nod along. “Wouldn’t it also be good to try working on unbinding my magic?”
A muscle in his jaw twitches as it clenches at my words. “We’ll work on that too. But since that’s not as straightforward, I would prefer we focus on some combat basics first.”
“Okay, let’s do this thing,” I say confidently, squaring my shoulders back.
He waves his hand out. “Get into position. I want to see what you do know.”
Absolutely nothing, would be what I know.
I spread my feet out and hold my hands in fists in front of my face because that seems like the right thing to do.Right?
His eyes trace over my form as he shakes his head.
Okay, so not right…
“Which is your dominant hand?” he asks.
“How does one know what that is?” I ask sheepishly.
He narrows his eyes at me a moment before looking around the empty space. He finds what he’s looking for, bending over to collect something from the ground.
“Think fast,” he says before chucking something at me.
With an entirely too embarrassing shriek, I throw my hand up and catch what I now know is a small pebble. “What the fuck?!”
He nods towards my right hand where I’m holding the pebble. “There’s your dominant hand.”
My brows rise as my eyes flick between my right hand and his face. “Well, that’s a neat trick. But did you really have to launch something at me? What if I hadn’t caught it?”
“I had faith,” he says simply. “But also, if you didn’t, I picked one small enough to not seriously maim.”
My jaw drops open. “Rude,” I mutter to myself. “What’s your dominant hand?” I ask as I launch the pebble back at him.
His hand shoots out with impressive speed and snags the pebble from the air. He gives me a bored look. “Seriously?”
“I was curious,” I shrug and give him a wide grin. “We know my dominant hand. Now what?”
