Interstellar Agent Goblin's Ponygirl - Mission 1
Copyright© 2025 by Rose362436
Chapter 11
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 11 - Set in alternate future, where humanity has spread across galaxy. There a tenuous peace amongst 3 factions and other aliens. Two female agents of Interstellar Agency are sent on a critical mission to a technologically primitive planet. As they work on completing their mission they encounter Goblins and other aliens who use local human females as domesticated animals-pony girls/milking cows. Will our two beauties complete their mission or end up as ponygirls themselves.
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Slavery Lesbian BiSexual Fiction Farming High Fantasy Zoophilia Science Fiction Aliens Extra Sensory Perception BDSM Humiliation PonyGirl Exhibitionism Lactation Massage Petting Public Sex ENF Nudism
Philippa continued her tale. Some of the pony girls watched her with intense, calculating eyes. Others simply leaned against their tethers, staring blankly at the dirt to mask their shame. A few of the more seasoned captives even shared fleeting, knowing glances, while others stared at the ground recalling their own capture.
“I’m sorry,” Philippa whispered. Her voice dropped as she caught sight of movement near the fence. “We have company.”
A sudden burst of chatter and the rhythmic thud of approaching footsteps broke the heavy atmosphere. Gabby felt a jolt of relief as a soft hum resonated in her mind. The data transfer was complete. The exchange of information was complete. It will take some time for her neural array to decipher Ari’s messages. She hoped Ari would retrieve the transmission on time.
“You did it, little slut,” her inner voice whispered. “But don’t get too comfortable. A new audience has arrived to witness your shame.”
A group of youths approached the fence. They were led by a woman in a sharp, bluish tunic. She carried a wooden pointer and walked at a brisk pace. Gabby watched them through the haze of her own arousal. They were clearly students on a guided excursion. Most peered into the corral with academic curiosity, while a few displayed a detached, teenage nonchalance.
“All of you, please gather close to the fence,” the woman ordered. She gestured toward the long stretch of the enclosure. To the left sat the inn, while the corral itself was split by a wide water trough. On one side, the horses stood in the shadows. On the other, the pony girls remained tethered to a long line running parallel to the fence. “We are here to observe how the locals tend to their livestock. But stay back from the rails. You must not disturb the animals or offend their masters.”
“Are we looking at the horses first?” a girl asked. She gripped parchments tightly against her chest.
“We will start with the equines,” the teacher said. She pointed her stick toward the horses. “They are used for labor in the outer territories. They are vital to the local economy. As you may have seen earlier, our army depends on them.”
“And what about them?” a young boy sniggered, pointing towards the other side of the water trough.
“Gabe!” the teacher snapped, her voice a clear warning. “you know well what they are.” She paused, her eyes flickering toward the naked, bound women with a brief, pained hesitation. “Those are pony girls. They are human females captured by goblin tribes. To the goblins, they are considered essential livestock. It is a matter of survival for them, just as horses are for us humans.”
“Are they truly just animals to the goblins?” a girl in the group asked in a wavering voice. She looked visibly uneasy, her eyes darting toward the naked, bound figures.
“In the eyes of goblin law, yes,” the teacher replied. She looked slightly uncomfortable. “The goblins view all free human females as wild fillies that simply have not been broken yet. They treat them as property rather than people.”
Gabby felt a shudder ripple through her. Beside her, a seasoned pony girl let out a low, hollow sound, a grunt of agreement that sounded more like a horse’s snort. The humiliation of being categorized alongside beasts of burden burned in Gabby’s chest, yet the shame only served to fuel the heat between her thighs.
“Just like we treat our horses and cows,” another boy in the group quipped. His companion poked him.
“How do they train them?” Yet another student asked, leaning closer to the fence. “Why don’t they just run away?” another student questioned.
“Have you no sense?” a girl beside him hissed. “Look at how they are bound.”
“They break them much like we train wild horses.” the teacher explained while adjusting her stance. She kept her voice even and tapped her wooden pointer against the fence rail for emphasis. They rely on rigid conditioning and repetitive drills to enforce compliance.” A sharp inhale escaped her lips as she quickly glanced away from the tethered pony girls. “Trainers apply physical corrections alongside a cunning reward regimen. It’s supposed to be highly efficient, if controversial.”
“It’s disgusting,” a female student muttered. The air was thick and heavy, saturated with the scent of dry hay, animal waste, and a pungent, musky sweetness that hung low in the corral. She wrinkled her nose, stepped back and said “The smell is overwhelming. It’s like a stable, but ... more intense, there is something else too...” Realizing what the other scent was, her cheeks turned pink.
“It is the scent of their...” the teacher faltered. She glanced at the students, her face warming with a sudden, sharp heat as she realized what it was. She swallowed hard, looking away. “Their ... training,” she settled on, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her gaze met Gabby’s for a brief moment.
Gabby felt a hot flush crawl up her neck. The constant, pulsing ache between her legs throbbed in time with her heartbeat. She shifted her weight, and the movement caused the leather straps of her harness to scrape against her sensitive skin. The small bells on her nipple rings gave a sharp, rhythmic jingle that seemed to echo her pulse.
A male student who had been quiet earlier, stepped closer to the fence. His eyes traveled slowly over the pony girls. He lingered on the way the sunlight played over their skin and the movement of the bells on their nipple rings. His gaze fixated on pony girls, who were rhythmically thrusting themselves against the wooden posts for relief, seemingly oblivious to the crowd.
“Looks like they’re enjoying it,” he said with a smirk. Glancing sideways to ensure the teacher was distracted, he leaned toward a female student who looked particularly shaken. “Don’t look so scared, Sarah. You’d probably look quite striking in a bit and harness. I’d pay a lot of gold to see you harnessed.”
“Shut up, Leo!” Sarah spat. Her face flushed a deep crimson. She stared into the corral, her eyes wide and trembling. A cold shudder passed through her as she looked at the naked, bound women, seeing not livestock, but the terrifying possibility of her own future. “You are being incredibly cruel. What if one of them is a person from a nearby village?” Turning to the teacher she asked “Why don’t the elders stop this?”
“The treaties are complex,” the teacher said, though she didn’t offer a real answer.
Gabby felt the heat of the stares pressing against her skin like a physical weight. The constant, pulsing ache between her legs intensified as she felt the eyes of the students on her exposed body. She felt the sweat trickling down her spine, making her skin itch.
“So, now you are an exhibitionist too uh? Good to know.” her inner voice taunted. “Look at them stare. The boys want to own you, and the girls are terrified they might become you. Most feel sad for you but you clearly like it. You’re practically begging for someone to reach through that fence and...”
“I am not begging,” Gabby cut in fiercely, though she could not deny the dampness between her thighs.
The group of students began to move along the fence line. One of the female students walked past Gabby and cast a look of profound pity toward her. It was a look that felt heavier than any insult. It reminded Gabby that even in their perceived superiority, the free humans saw her as something less than human.
“Look at her,” her inner voice jeered. “Even the students know you. You aren’t a woman to them, Strawberry. Just a pathetic, panting pet.”
As the teacher led the group further down the path, a young student stopped and pointed back toward the corral. “Teacher, why do they put those heavy brass tags on their noses? It looks so painful.”
“It is for identification and security,” the teacher explained, not slowing her pace. “It ensures the property can be identified if it wanders from its owner. It is a standard precaution for valuable livestock.”
Gabby was staring at the ground, lost in the haze of her own heat, when she realized the sensation of weight had vanished. The constant, sharp tug on her septum was gone. She blinked, confused by the sudden lightness in her nose, and saw a small, metallic object settling into the dirt beneath her feet. Her nanobots had finally won. She let out a weary sigh.
A straggler from the group glanced back and caught sight of the bright brass disc in the grime. She opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher called out for the group to move on. The girl hesitated for a heartbeat, then hurried to catch up with the rest.
“Valuable livestock,” her inner voice spat, the words dripping with venom. “Hear that? You’re finally getting the recognition you craved for. Does that arouse you even more? Does the fact that you are no longer considered a person but just a beast make you wet?”
Gabby slumped slightly against her tether, exhausted. Her limbs felt heavy and drained. Her neural array blared a series of red warnings, signaling that her nanobots were dangerously depleted. She was too exhausted to do anything about it. She simply lay on her side in the dirt and closed her eyes. Her nanobots would need time and a dose of pony fruit before they recovered.
Some where deep in Goblin Forest closer to Sibar
It had been a long day for Gorsk and his mount, Blaze. She exhaled a soft breath, her nostrils flaring against the cooling air. She carried him with practiced grace. He could feel her muscles rippling beneath the leather harness. They had been traveling for a full moon cycle. He knew she must be exhausted. He leaned forward, his calloused fingers tracing the frost blonde locks just above her bridle as they moved along the narrow path edging the hill. It was a gesture of respect, one that he knew Blaze would not understand.
She truly was a gift. He thanked his God for bestowing her upon him. He bowed his head in gratitude. He still could not understand how his God knew where exactly to lead him. His God had blessed him not once, but twice, with mounts of rare quality. Unlike all other human pony girls he had owned, these two were intelligent in their own right.
He had not found a pony of Red’s caliber since leaving her in Gorlm’s care. None measured up to her. He chuckled recalling how fiercely Red had insisted on being called Gabby. His smile faded at the memory. Blaze reminded him so much of Red. The very first time he had laid his eyes on Blaze, he had instantly realized why his God had ordained him to take this detour.
Her silvery mane had completely fooled him into thinking she was an elf. But she wasn’t. She was a human, and was owned by the Eastern tribe, who had tried to break her. Using GirTamer’s new taming technique, he had succeeded where they had failed.
“Easy now, girl” he murmured as Blaze’s steps faltered for a moment. He tugged on Blaze’s reins, slowing her to a canter, then a trot. “We are close,” he assured her, spotting the cave entrance.
The sun would soon set, they needed shelter for the night. He guided Blaze toward the shadowed alcove where water trickled over stone. He noticed Blaze increasing her pace. She was eager to get inside. He gripped the reins firmly to slow her down.
“Patience Blaze, patience” he whispered chuckling to himself as it reminded him again of Red and her impatience.
His goblin eyes adjusted easily to the dimness as they entered the cave. He’d learned over time that Blaze didn’t struggle in low light either. It was another echo of Red. She saw things others missed, even in the shadows.
Inside, the moss covered entrance gave way to stones with jagged edges. He had been to this cave before. Its damp scent mixed with earthy aroma of the forest around them was very familiar to him.
He guided his mount deeper, the sound of dripping water echoing around them. They heard a scuffling noise. He tightened his grip on the reins, and Blaze came to an abrupt halt. Though her body was tense beneath him, she hadn’t flinched. Her alertness reminded him again of Red, always quick to sense danger.
“What was that?” he rasped, scanning the darkness.
He nudged Blaze forward slowly. The noise came again, a rustle, followed by the scrape of steel on stone. Rounding a bend in the cave wall, Gorsk saw her.
A figure huddled in the shadows, tall and elegant. She raised a dagger, its blade glinting in the dim light. Elven, he realized instantly. Royal garments, torn and filthy, but undeniably of Eldamar make.
“Stop,” the figure warned, her voice steady. She reminded him of a coiled snake about to attack. Her gaze locked onto the goblin and his mount.
“So,” he said, his voice low, conversational. “What have we here?”
The elf didn’t lower her weapon. Her eyes, sharp and wary, tracked his every move.
“Stay back, or I will...” she started to warn again, her voice tense.
“No need for threats, little elf.” Gorsk chuckled softly, cutting her off mid sentence. “I’m just curious.”
He nudged Blaze to angle her away from the stranger. The pony dug her heels, refusing to budge. After months of training, he was used to her immediate response to his subtle cues, almost instinctual. This defiance caught him completely by surprise.
Then understanding dawned on him. She actively refused to face the fully clothed elf. He has seen this behavior before. Not defiance exactly, but a peculiar skittish reluctance his human mounts displayed especially when they met free ones for the first time. The way their bodies tensed under scrutiny from those still wearing clothes.
He understood silently. His grip slackened for an instant before he pulled gently on the right rein. At the same time, he tapped her left breasts with his spurs. His filly finally obeyed, though her body remained angled stubbornly away from the elf.
Gorsk settled deeper into his saddle. The elevation provided a critical advantage. Goblins were not built for speed. It had been drilled into them since childhood. Their mounts gave them an edge and leveled the playing field with others who were stronger and faster than them. Till he assessed the situation, staying mounted was essential.
“Curious about what?” she challenged, her grip tightening on the dagger. Her gaze lingered on Blaze’s bridle and the saddle that held Gorsk securely. “Who is this unfortunate woman you are riding?”
“This is my mount. I have named her Blaze.” Gorsk replied nonchalantly. “I am sure you are eager to learn more. You must be imagining how it must be to serve the mighty goblin. Fear not, that opportunity will come soon.” He smirked.
Hearing her name, Blaze shifted slightly, trying to ease the chaffing caused by the tack between her legs. She craned her neck as much as her reins allowed, getting a better look at the elf.
The elf standing proud in the dim light was beautiful. The frost blonde hair spilling down her back were unnervingly similar to Blaze’s own. Her angular cheekbones were accentuated by a straight nose giving her a regal bearing. Tattered silk robes hinted at a fortune lost.
Blaze took in the elf’s lean frame and strong build. She didn’t miss how the torn fabric subtly outlined curves beneath. The elf woman was almost the same height as her. They could have passed as sisters but for those pointed ears. She knew that the women on this planet were usually a head taller than her. She wondered if the elf females were not as tall as their human counterparts.
“In your dreams,” she hissed, tightening her grip on the dagger.
“And princess,” Gorsk continued, ignoring her outburst. He recognized the bearing of nobility when he saw it. “Your clothes suggest you’re a long way from your palace.”
“You know who I am?” the elf asked hesitantly, caught off guard.
“I recognize the cut of Eldamar cloth,” Gorsk replied. “And your posture speaks volumes. But I don’t know your name.”
“Why does it matter?” she asked haughtily, a slight hesitation in her voice. She did lower her dagger a fraction and muttered “Aubree.”
“Everything matters,” Gorsk said, his gaze fixed on her. “Especially to someone traveling alone in our forest.” He gestured around the cave with a tilt of his head. “This isn’t exactly a safe place for an exquisite specimen like you.”
“I can take care of myself,” she snapped, “better than trusting a goblin.”
“Fair enough,” Gorsk conceded, glancing down at Blaze. “Though you’d think seeing her...” He paused, letting the statement hang in the air. “Does my mount remind you of someone?” Gorsk chortled, shifting in the saddle and absentmindedly petting Blaze’s head.
The dim cave light revealed more of Blaze as the sun dipped below the horizon. Aubree studied her appearance carefully, noting how similar they were despite their different stations in life. The pale hair cascading down Blaze’s back matched Aubree’s own coloring almost exactly, though shorter. The same high cheekbones, the same delicate jawline, the same straight nose.
The transition from warmth to chill was evident on Blaze’s skin. Sweat had begun drying in the cooling air, raising tiny goosebumps across her torso and arms. Hands tied behind her back held the weight of the saddle. Fingers wrapped in mittens rendered them useless. The toned muscles on her long legs were testament to both her physical conditioning and endurance.
Aubree’s gaze tracked down to the finer details she hadn’t noticed before. Her feet were encased in iron reinforced soft leather boots. They were worn but seemed molded precisely to her shape. Silver rings adorned Blaze’s nipples, catching the faint light. Delicate bells hung from her nipple rings. The silver bit rested between Blaze’s teeth, held securely by the bridle that buckled behind her head.
Aubree realized that all these were carefully chosen accessories, designed for endurance, not cruelty. But it was her eyes that held Aubree captive. There was no defeat in them, only a fierce, burning fire. She carried herself with a quiet dignity that belied her restraints.
A wave of horror washed over Aubree as she realized just how much Blaze resembled her. It was as if she were staring at her own distorted reflection.
“She looks ... so much like me,” Aubree finally gulped, her voice barely above a whisper. Nervously she shuffled the dagger from one hand to another, tightening her grip as if seeking comfort.
Gorsk’s grin widened, slow and calculating. He leaned forward in the saddle, dark eyes fixing on Aubree from his high vantage point.
“Ah but you are not her,” he murmured, tapping the side of his chin.
“Proud ones like you? They break easy.” His gaze flickered to Blaze. “I don’t break wild fillies into submission anymore—I tame them.” He patted Blaze’s neck, his touch possessive.
“I’m Gorsk,” he announced in a loud clear voice, “slaver by trade.” He paused deliberately. “Honorable by choice.”
“Blaze here? She’s got fire in her blood.” Blaze tensed beneath him, nostrils flaring as the bit chafed. “And I give it room to breathe.” Gorsk’s smirk returned as he looked back at Aubree. “Princess, you could only dream of being like her.”
Gorsk shifted his weight in the saddle, studying Aubree’s reaction. His grip tightened marginally on the reins, a silent command for stillness that Blaze obeyed instantly.
Aubree’s fingers clenched around her dagger, knuckles whitening. She swallowed hard against a dry throat but refused to break his gaze. She lifted her chin higher, though the proud line of her jaw wavered ever so slightly.
“Never,” she spat in defiance. Her words sounded hollow even to her ears. She retreated half-step as if to put physical distance between her and the pony girl that fascinated her.
“Calm down princess,” he said leaning forward. He traced the line of Blaze’s bridle with one finger.
“Your words say one thing,” he mused, watching Aubree flinch “but your body is screaming something else.”
His gaze snapped to her, boring into her. He tilted his head, slowly, deliberately letting the silence stretch.
“I can smell your eagerness,” he pronounced finally, sniffing the air. “I see it as clear as daylight.”
Aubree wanted to object, but no sound came out of her dry mouth. Gorsk continued, his eyes never leaving hers.
“You want to be tacked. You want to experience the bit in your mouth, the bridle on your face and a rider in a saddle on your back.” Gorsk declared.
Beneath him, Blaze shifted. Aubree caught the tightening of her bound hands against the saddle pommel as if caught in their exchange.
“You are deplorable!” Aubree finally choked out. “Did you kidnap her?” Her voice cracked on the last word, eyes darting to Blaze’s stiff posture.
“Gift,” Gorsk smirked, as always enjoying his own wit.”. He leaned forward again to scratch Blaze behind her ear. His motion was casual yet possessive. “Eastern tribes couldn’t handle the fire in her.” His voice dropped conspiratorially as Blaze twitched beneath his touch.
“But look at her now.” He patted the pony’s neck, deliberately forcing a soft whine from Blaze against her bit. “She fears nothing,” he paused, cracking his short whip in the air “unlike you.”
Aubree’s eyes locked with Blaze, sharp and analyzing. She noticed the bound woman blushing at her intense scrutiny. A moment of recognition passed between them before she looked away sharply.
“She is merely ... broken,” she muttered, struggling to convince herself. But she knew it wasn’t true. She knew Blaze was holding back.
“A broken pony is useless,” Gorsk countered coldly. “And she isn’t. I do not break, I tame.”
He gave a gentle tug on the reins. Blaze complied without hesitation that spoke volumes of her training.
“Stay back.” the elf warned, raising the hand that held the dagger. Her expression hardened. “Don’t you dare move. I know what goblins do. I understand goblin society cannot survive without human females. It’s still barbaric.”
“It keeps us alive,” Gorsk said simply. “And Blaze here is well-fed, sheltered, and ... content.” He patted her neck gently. “More than I can say for you. The forest doesn’t care if you’re elf, goblin, or a pony girl. It just waits to eat you alive.” He reached down and patted Blaze’s neck. “And I’ve seen too many proud ones turn to bones before they learned that.”
Aubree did not respond but the dagger in her hand shook.
“It looks like you haven’t eaten in a while,” he said, leaning forward on his mount in a gentler tone. “I have food I can share with you. Are you hungry?” he asked with a smile.
She didn’t answer but lowered her dagger. He waited. He knew when to be patient and when to hurry. Anxiety fluttered on her face as if in a dilemma.
“Yes,” she whispered as if finally making a decision. “How can I trust you?”
Aubree’s chest rose and fell rhythmically as she awaited his reply. She tucked a stray lock of frost blonde hair behind her pointed ear. Her eyes probed as they met Gorsk’s dark gaze.
“You cannot,” Gorsk replied gently, “and you should not. Trust must be earned. It grows from shared burdens.” He shifted on Blaze’s back.
“Kneel” he ordered, tapping Blaze’s flank with a worn leather switch, a single flick of his wrist that was sharp but not hard.
Blaze got the message. She obeyed instantly without any hesitation. Despite her bound hands, she shifted her weight, lowering one knee to the uneven cave floor. Then, she bent slightly to make it easier for her rider to unmount. The moss-covered stone bit into her skin. She winced but stood perfectly still.
Aubree watched warily, dagger still in her hand. The pony’s movements were fluid and graceful, almost instinctual. Her own knees suddenly felt weak imagining the training it must have taken to invoke such compliance.
“Good girl,” he murmured, not to Blaze but to himself. His fingers lingered at the base of her neck, patting to check something unseen. Then he dismounted, swinging his right leg over with practiced ease. He stretched his shoulders as if waking from a long sleep. He took a few steps forward between Blaze and the fading light.
He loosened her reins to secure her against a thick stalagmite on the wall. He had left her enough slack to move around but not stray. She snorted sharply against her bit, almost horse like.
Aubree caught it. It wasn’t a sound of fear but suppressed fury. The pony was not happy to be thus tethered.
The goblin rummaged through his saddlebags hanging off his pony. He emerged with a small cloth bundle containing strips of dried meat and berries.
“Hold these,” he commanded, tossing the bundle towards her. “That’s our ration for tonight.” Aubree caught it reflexively. Unfortunately, her dagger slipped from her hand and clattered against the stone.
While Gorsk went on to build a fire, Aubree’s gaze drifted to the pony girl. She stood tethered not far from her. Early moonlight shone on her flushed cheeks. Her breaths came faster now, shallow pants that fogged the cooling air. A bead of sweat traced a path down her spine even though the cave was getting cooler. Aubree had noticed a spark in her intelligent eyes when she first met her. Now, it was replaced with a dull sheen of frustration.
Aubree’s nose wrinkled. Beneath the damp earth and smoke of Gorsk’s fire, there was another scent, muskier and heavier. She frowned trying to place it.
Gorsk leaned back from the small flames he’d started. His nostrils flared subtly. He fixed his gaze on Blaze, head tilted slightly.
“Smells like wet earth, fire and...” He sniffed again. A thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “Ah. Blaze is in heat.” He said it casually, as if expecting it.
Aubree’s cheeks burned crimson as the meaning slammed into her. The smell wasn’t just sweat or leather - it was what Gorsk had crudely, but accurately described. How had she missed it? She had seen the tension coiling through Blaze, muscles bunching before pressing her thighs together as if trying to quell an inner fire. She had heard the sound escaping Blaze’s lips. The sound that was not quite a whimper but something raw and filled with frustration.
She tore her gaze away from Blaze, who wasn’t meeting hers either.
Goblins riding human females as mounts was common knowledge among elves, but never before had she witnessed such a spectacle. Her training scrolls had mentioned a fruit. It was forbidden in Eldamar, especially for women. The scrolls mentioned how the goblins used it effectively as a conditional reward to tame their human mounts. She understood the theory ... but never imagined witnessing its raw effect.
“Good girl,” Gorsk murmured, adding fuel to the small flames that now licked at dry wood. His eyes never left Blaze as she shifted restlessly beside the tethering point. The bells on her nipple rings chimed softly with each movement.
Gorsk took the bundle from Aubree and split the rations, though she noticed he’d steered the larger portion her way.
“Eat” he instructed her simply.
Aubree hesitated a moment longer before dropping to her knees. Her royal garments snagged on the rough stone, and she smoothed it. She awkwardly reached for a piece of meat. It was tough and salty, nothing like the delicately seasoned dishes she was accustomed to. Aubree tore into it with desperate hands, barely chewing before forcing it down her throat. She devoured two strips in rapid succession before remembering the berries.
“Slow down,” Gorsk said from his place by the fire. “Food tastes better when you let it rest on your tongue.”
She paused, mouth half-full of berries. The tiny purple fruits burst against her palate with a tart sweetness that momentarily distracted from the gnawing hunger. She took another bite, this time more deliberate.
“Thank you,” she said after chewing slowly. A warmth spread through her body that had nothing to do with the fire.
Gorsk nodded, taking his time preparing a similar portion from what remained in their bundle. He made no move to eat it immediately.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked after swallowing her own mouthful, watching him push berries around in his palm.
“I tend to my mount first,” Gorsk replied. “Blaze gets fed before I eat.” He gave a nod toward the pony girl who was writhing in frustration. Her shallow breaths were still visible in the cooling cave air.
Gorsk walked toward his kneeling mount. His movements were fluid but Aubree noticed the measured approach. It was not fear but the respectful caution one might use when approaching a skittish horse.
He murmured something too low for Aubree to understand. Blaze remained still, watching him with an intensity that mirrored Aubree’s earlier warhorse when the royal groom entered its stall. The anticipation in those pale eyes was identical to what she recalled from countless feeding times at Eldamar’s royal stables.