As Izzy quickly realised, Werdox was a kind and cautious rider. His interventions were calm, level-headed and never stronger than absolutely necessary. The old goblin could be accused of stupidity, but at least he wasn't cruel. But that hardly reassured her; after all, a stranger was still sitting on her back and using her as nothing more than a horse - and she was at his mercy like any other ponygirl. An animal that only served to be useful to its rider. And to make matters worse, she had come a good deal closer to a future as such - after a few goblins had already seen her as a ponygirl, she had now even been seen in this degrading form by people close to her. She had even been observed being saddled and fitted with a horse bit; she had not even been spared the ponytail. It was a deep humiliation that would probably not remain without consequences.
She was deep in thought, blindly following the instructions of the reins by habit by now, and was standing in Oozol's yard before she even realised it.
Of course, Izzy thought bitterly, where else would a goblin take a horse if not to the stable where it belonged. For Werdox, the school must have been the exception, and not Oozol's farm, to which she clearly belonged for Werdox thanks to Grall's markings.
A groom promptly appeared and helped the old goblin - after a snappy tack! - out of the saddle.
"What's going on, why isn't she at school?" asked Grall, who had stormed out of the house, confused.
Werdox seemed surprised by the question. "They didn't want her there anymore. But a school isn't a good place for a ponygirl anyway. Especially not such a gorgeous one." He patted Izzy's shoulder in praise, but she wasn't receptive to it today.
Grall took the bit out of Izzy's mouth. "Tell me what happened." Izzy did, and Grall's eyes narrowed with every word. He turned to Werdox, who looked at him uncertainly. "This is your fault! You old fool, why did you do this?"
The old goblin was visibly overwhelmed and stammered. "But... she's a horse! And the teacher wanted a demonstration... I didn't mean any harm!"
Grall wasn't satisfied. "It was meant to be a secret from the humans. Haven't you thought about it?"
"Nobody told me -" Werdox began, before Izzy interrupted him.
"Don't act so pretentious, Grall; as if he was the only one not thinking something through..." Izzy grumbled. "You presented me to your friends first. And if you hadn't ridden me onto the big road, we wouldn't have been seen at all! Damn it, it was your fault we were late in the first place!"
Grall got a little smaller, as if the air had been let out of him. "You're right, that was stupid of me. But that doesn't give your teacher the right to treat you like that. When we're done here, I'll go and complain about Mrs Flinchel! We goblins have no power over these people, but my father still has some influence. Nobody tricks a friend of mine just like that!"
Izzy snorted angrily. "Oh, is that so? Then you can surely explain why you had a saddle for me long before you were allowed to put it on me." A bright fire burned in her eyes, and Grall took a few steps back. Izzy must have been a mountain of muscle on the verge of exploding in his eyes. Even some of the grooms were putting down their work and getting ready to calm that wild horse. Izzy's eyes twitched to the side and she realised that despite their long experience, many of them were quite mindful of her presence. Strangely enough, that was a quite good feeling for her. "Did it leave you speechless?" Grall swallowed and his hands plucked restlessly at his clothes. Gotcha, Izzy thought, even if she didn't enjoy it. He was still very important to her, but there was a good chance that this would be the end of their friendship. "You'd better have a good explanation or I'm walking off the farm and never coming back!"
Grall understood; he swallowed, nervously wiped a few stones away with his feet and began to speak quietly: "It was just an idea; my father always talked about me choosing a ponygirl... but I didn't want to, also because we are friends. How could I ride a girl when you were there? But somehow - deep down inside - I was probably hoping that you would become my ponygirl one day." His gaze was fixed on his feet. "One day I was supposed to order saddles for my father; it was from one of the best saddlers on the island, and I had a lot of time to look at his craftsmanship. The fine leather, the perfect stitching, the curved shapes and the firm straps. They were perfect, something you'd give a ponygirl as a gift if you really cared. But my father had given me too much money, and as luck would have it, there was enough for another saddle - thinking about it, it was a bit suspicious. But as it is, I then had another saddle made - just for you. It was simple, but still of good quality. It was just for fun, I just wanted to tease you a bit. But when I held it in my hands, I knew I couldn't do it. You were and are too important to me for a joke like that. So I put it in the stable, where it stayed until you got too big for it; you grew up awfully fast." He chuckled lightly and Izzy nodded too. Her growth spurts had almost driven her father to despair too; in the end, better turnip sacks were almost the only solution, but they also brought with them some ridicule and scorn. On those days, Grall was often her only comfort - and only friend. Now it was strange to know that the most expensive clothing for her at that time was a saddle, which Grall hid in a stable. "I looked at the saddle a lot, and later bought a new one. It was just a daft idea, but it made me happy somehow. Then you got too big again and I bought another one. Each one was more expensive and better than the last, and I always wanted to show it to you - but I never dared. Your current one is the fourth saddle, the best of all, for the best friend in the world."
But if Grall had hoped that these words would appease Izzy, he was wrong. "You mean for the best horse..." Her gaze hadn't softened. Her head was burning, but in a strange way, so was the rest of her body. The thought that her friend had his own saddle for her all this time, and secretly thought of her that way, should have shaken her beyond belief, and yet it made her feel warm more than anything. Was it just the tail that irritated her with every step? Or was there more to it? "Don't flatter me. Why does it fit me so well if you only commissioned it?"
"Because I just know you well," he said, grinning sheepishly. "Everything about you. You're just important to me."
Izzy snorted. "Our neighbours care about their dog too, but he's still just their pet. And I'm probably yours. You've even marked me already." She turned round and showed the marks on her arms and back. "What do you have to say to that?" She had expected at least some shame from him, but he just smiled and bit his lower lip.
"It was just part of the saddle. But it does make me proud to see you sporting it."
"You could at least have asked me!" She took a quick step forwards and the grooms did the same. One more move and they would probably be all over her. Let them, thought Izzy, today I decide!
"I just hadn't thought about it," said Grall, raising his hands apologetically. "But what's the big deal? The marks will disappear again. It's just part of our culture. You humans always say you're tolerant."
