Wood You Be So Kind

[Dr. Jay Murdoch]

The day had been well-spent traversing the woods behind the little cabin. Sherman and Strawberry both provided company; the dog easily kept up with the two equines, darting past and leading the way until the two changed course, and she darted after. Sherman had plenty to talk about and so the mule and red roan spent the trails conversing, stopping only at creeks to drink and grassy patches to snack.

Sherman quite enjoyed the stories Jay had to share about the horses he saw on farm calls. Many involved horses complaining about their humans, but not in any sort of abusive way: mostly that they were in a discipline they didn’t enjoy, or that their saddle was improperly fit and therefore hurting, or their human baby-talked them too much… all of which, Jay told Sherman that he could always let him know of whatever he wanted to do and the meta would do his best to allow that to happen. ”We could even enter some competitions in your favorite discipline ‘n’ win money,” Jay pointed out. ”We could always use the extra money.”

”Humans and money,” the mule sighed.

”Dude, tell me about it. I hate capitalism.”

On the way back, though, it was a race for fun. Barreling down the trails, passing one another, bumping shoulders playfully, throwing taunts and jests. Strawberry barked and did her best to keep up as the two equines burst from the tree line and galloped across the field behind the cabin, unsure where the finish line was but still racing through the expanse nonetheless.

They tore past the cabin and were prepared to keep going down the driveway but the red roan suddenly hit the brakes while Sherman blazed past. Hooves dug hard into the ground but it took distance to slow down, and he used that to trot a circle around the vehicle that didn’t belong to him. Ears upright, his sides heaved while he caught his breath, and the scent came before he saw the familiar face.

”Dr. Neville!” He would’ve grinned if he could, pleased by the unexpected company. The red roan came to a stop when he could face the headmaster and barking from the other side of the cabin to signal Strawberry's incoming. ”What brings you here?”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

If one had asked Sean where he saw himself a decade ago, at the cusp of 2010 with the Great Recession upon them and after nearly a year into Obama’s first term, he would have identified only a third or so of his current life. “Still at Hammel,” he would have said, with no thought to the idea of vying for Headmaster. At the time, Claude had still held the position, and Sean had been content to see them both to retirement. A decade later and the older man remained Sean’s favorite boss.

Still in the house in Pilot Ridge, of course, and while the telepath had not abandoned hope of finding love, he never would have believed, in 2009, that less than two years later he and Josh would reconcile. That they would be wed. Or that he would have a pet rabbit sharing the home (Josh had rabbits dating back two decades now, but Sean had never been a pet person himself.)

Of course, he also would not have predicted the political climate in which they found themselves or the progressive backlash that led to Josh’s position as mayor. Which, with the time crunch, had led to Sean having to take Mopsy to her last vet appointment, while his husband had apologized profusely and promised to make it up to him.

The benefit, of course, apart from the blank check apology kept up his sleeve for when he might call it in, had been the opportunity to reconnect with their local veterinarian. A former student, and Sean always took such pride and joy in seeing alumni land on their feet. Their conversation had turned to hobbies and the weather, as almost all such discussions did at this time of year. Jay had mentioned a cache of firewood, more than he could possibly burn in a season, in a lifetime, and had stated outright that some was up for grabs.

When Sean had asked about recompense, the younger man had brushed him off, leaving the psychiatrist to go about it more subtly.

As his car rolled to a stop in the driveway, he unfastened his seatbelt and checked on the platter of Christmas cookies on the seat beside him; none appeared to have broken during the admittedly cautious drive from his house to the outskirts. And just as he had managed to slide from his seat and shut the door, he was approached by a horse.

His back stiffened reflexively until he willed himself to relax. There was more than a glimmer of intelligence in the animal’s eyes, and, unlike most creatures of the world, Sean could sense it, albeit with some difficulty, akin to hearing words spoken underwater.

Jay.

He remembered the younger man’s power well.

Further confirmed when he heard thoughts over the vocalizations of the beast.

“I’m sorry to stop in unannounced.” He held up the platter of cookies, drawing attention to the contents - bright green, red, and blue icing and white sprinkles adorned sugar cookies in a variety of shapes. “I wanted to drop these off, for the holidays - a proper piece of cheer."