National Lampoon's Hyperspace Vacation

[Quarles P. Dage]

"He likes you!"

Quarles couldn't help his smile, and with a lingering grin he took up two small handbrushes. One he handed to T'yeellaa, and the other he fitted over his own hand. His own gelding, a medium-build bay with rust-colored mane and tail continued to happily eat his fill of grain. Quick strokes of the brush, and he gave a dusty pat to the equa's rump. A few more brushes, and he set the handheld tool aside so that he could take up a faded saddle-pad and the accompanying blanket of stitched geometric patterns.

He gestured to the pad and teal-colored folded blanket beneath T'yeellaa's own saddle.

"Not the cleanest, but they do what they're supposed to do."

A few moments later, and he had hefted his saddle up and over to rest easily on the equa's back.

"I'm glad that you decided to come for a visit, T'yeellaa," he spoke with a hum.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She smiled at his words, but there was a stitch of ambivalence preventing her from savoring the experience whole cloth.

"jI wassn't...ssurre jit wass apprroprrjiate to come."

Setting the saddle on Hatrack, the felinoid busied herself with readying her mount. It made talking easier.

"Therre'ss a lot about human cusstomss that jI'm behjind on the learrnjing currve, but bejing jinvjited to meet the famjiljy jiss ssomethjing that jI thjink nejitherr humanss norr cizeri take forr grranted."

She gave the strap beneath the saddle a firm cinch, and tugged down on each stirrup to test.

"jI djidn't...want jyou to asssume the wrrong thjing."

[Quarles P. Dage]

"And what sort of wrong thing would there be to infer?"

It was a rhetorical question, and one made with an accompanying wink of his eye.

"You and Samus... You seem to be happy together, from what I can tell. You've both got a sort of old familiarity with one another that is something I am happy to see."

For a moment he paused, holding the headstall in one hand while his other rested softly on his own equa's mane.

"What the two of you have together," he finally mused, "... it is lovely. It... it is what Bernie and I had."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

No, no no...T'yeellaa's mouth felt dry. Don't compare us.

"jI...jI'm not ssurre what jyou mean, Arr Dage. No djissrresspect, and jI carre a grreat deal about Ssamuss, but he and jI, we'rre..."

Her face twisted in thought briefly.

"Morre than frrjiendss, but ljike jyou and Rrou Dage? jIssn't that too much?"

[Quarles P. Dage]

With a smile, Quarles began the easy ritual of sliding the bridle up, the bit going into the equa's mouth with practiced ease.

"Not really," he answered with an easy tone.

"I've seen the way Quentin looks at you. That boy thinks you single-handedly destroyed the first Death Star. I was the same way with Bernie."

The reigns were tossed over his mount's neck to land softly just in front of the saddle's horn, and in the next moment, his hand grasped both them and a large chunk of the mane that ended at the mare's withers. His booted foot was brought up in a swift motion, sliding into the stirrup, and the next moment he was up, swinging his leg over the top of the saddle.

"The key isn't to think of where you plan to end up, it's just to enjoy the ride."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa measured her first toe into the stirrup, then pressed up and over into the saddle. It was a lot different than riding fathiers, but in all the ways that mattered, it was the same. And maybe that was the lesson she should take to heart. For a moment, the K'ohta'rrou looked back at the elder Dage, just as sure in the saddle as she was, despite his years. He didn't know everything she and Samus were going through, but he didn't have to. He could probably guess, and what he couldn't guess was probably best left unsaid.

It was time to take Quarles' advice to heart. T'yeellaa drew up the reigns, hearing the old leather creak appealingly in her grasp. Hatrack easily pivoted with a tug, and T'yeellaa gave a quick snap to the slack, giving the old gelding permission to cut loose.

He obliged her.