“‘Thought of what to call her yet?’ I asked, stirring the cookpot. “Dior’s voice was muffled by her furs. ‘Mnnff?’ “I nodded to a shaggy chestnut mare, sheltering in the shadow of a fungus-riddled oak. ‘She needs a better name than Pony.’ “‘Gabriel, the last horse I named hurled herself off a cliff a few days later.’ “‘And your theory is that happened because you gave her a name?’ “‘I’m just saying I ended up sleeping inside her,’ the girl said, still looking queasy about it. ‘So you’ll pardon me if I’m not in a hurry to name another.’ “I glanced at Dior’s beast, lips pursed. ‘What about
...more
