Luceti Appointments

[vor]

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Comments

[vor]

Languages don't usually die so much as evolve. Technically, I speak Russian and French, but it's so far removed from anything someone from Russia or France knows that they probably couldn't understand me. [He pulls a sugar cube from a pocket and feeds it to the horse, who tongues it up without hesitation.] Individual words sometimes survive.

[complicatedliar]

I find it a funny thing, for the most part. All language sound alike to me, with few exceptions.

[vor]

Outside of this world, you mean?

[complicatedliar]

Precisely. Nearly all sound the same to me, particularly human languages.

[vor]

Do they all just sound like gibberish, then?

[complicatedliar]

Oh no, that isn't what I mean at all. They all sound the same because I understand them.

[vor]

Like having a permanent earbug?

[complicatedliar]

I have no idea what that is, but it sounds terribly unpleasant.

[vor]

Well, I understand three languages and some of a fourth and none of them sound alike to me.

[complicatedliar]

[Loki smiles.]

And had to learn them separately too, no doubt.

[vor]

Of course.

[complicatedliar]

It's a function of the language I speak. All a bit mysterious and complicated. But were we on Midgard, you'd think I was speaking Russian to you.

[vor]

Or English. I speak that one a lot.

[He doesn't dispute what Loki's saying, just files it away for later and nods toward the next stall.]

Shall we continue?

[complicatedliar]

Or that.

[Loki nods.]

Please.

[vor]

[In the next stall is another gelding, this one black. It is grazing idly on some hay that was left there at the last feeding.]

This one also needs a name, and I've had no takers so far.

[complicatedliar]

[Loki grins, inspecting this horse as he did with the last, letting the beast catch a good scent of him first.]

He reminds me a bit of my horse. Distant cousins, perhaps.

[Not literally, of course.]

[vor]

[Really? Because Gregor is convinced Alys is a proper Vor horse, no matter where she came from.]

I like him a lot. The Malnosso have given good horses so far.

[complicatedliar]

[Well, you know. What kind of horses would gods ride?]

I'm a bit surprised at that, but I'd agree. He's a lovely beast.

[vor]

Any name ideas?

[complicatedliar]

My horse was named Vakri... but perhaps Kolbakr? Black as coal, quite literally. Orri is the black grouse...

[vor]

I like Kolbakr, myself. [He gives the horse's shoulder a pat. The horse ignores him.] I might not even take other suggestions. It works for him.

[complicatedliar]

[Loki smiles.]

Glad to have been of help, then. And you can call him Kol for short if he's wicked.

[vor]

[Gregor's fingers tangle in the horse's mane for a bit, then pat the great neck before he backs off.]

Do you want to see my horse?

[complicatedliar]

[Nod.]

I should like that.

[vor]

[In the next stall is a beautiful dark bay mare. The name on the placard outside is "General Alys." Gregor's face lights up when he sees her. He's obviously proud.]

Meet Alys.