#baronyofthesilverwolf

He nods back in turn. "It was a case of exceeding cruelty. I can see why you are concerned. Yes, I bought the foal. Camarillo Whites are extremely rare and valuable, as lovely creatures as well as breeding stock - and the DuBois estate was eager to let her go as quickly as possible."

"Yes. I believe the urge to cover up the story of what happened was behind that eagerness. They did a fair job of covering her tracks. I arrived in this world some years ago, but only learned of what happened to Mistletoe a matter of days hence." A pause. "Do you still have the foal?" Carefully neutral tone.

He considers for a moment before responding. "It was nearly three years ago... she is hardly a foal now." He watches her a bit longer, then says, "Come." Leading her through the stable, around a corner, and towards a series of larger stalls.

"The third box over. This is Ereglöss, formerly called 'Holly'."

A fine white mare is within! White - well, not true white - she looks white to the eye, but horse breeders know that this color is actually Grey, as one can tell by the darker mouth, ears, and fetlocks. But a very fine horse indeed. If... a bit ROUND about the center.

Coradel approaches the stall with a quiet demeanor, taking a long moment to simply look at the mare, observing her line and her bearing, appreciating her. And eventually, she does smile slightly.

"She will be the mother of my new White line, by way of Snowthorn, a fine stallion purchased last Pennons."

"She is in foal," she murmurs. "There have been no problems? She thrives?"

"Skittish at first." He admits, "But good breeding. She was not injured, and shows no sign of any trauma from her stable of origin." He phrases diplomatically.

She nods, still watching the mare. After a moment, she says, "I am glad. I had hoped...." But she leaves that thought unfinished, and turns to him. "Baron, I am engaging in equestrian studies, and I hope to make a career in that field, myself. I think you can understand my eagerness to assure myself that the foal...this mare...was well. But I also need to be certain that what happened to her dam does not get connected back to me. It was not my doing, but no mortal would understand that."

He gives her a long, long moment of consideration.

"You tell me that the abuse to Mistletoe was done by your mortal host. I must ask, with truly, no offense intended. Was this done before you took residence? That is to say, should you lapse in your Fae senses for a time, due to Chimerical misadventure or Banality, would Coradel yet outweigh the cruel proclivities of any lingering elements of the DuBois girl?"

"It was before I arrived. And Chloe DuBois is vanquished. I have almost no memory of her at all, and I do not have any sense of her lingering in the wings. Should I fall, it is my belief that this body may well remain in a state of coma until it expires. Even if I am wrong...those close to her now know 'Chloe' to be a changed person, and some of them have changed, as well. She would find little support for former behavior among familiar faces if she returned."

He listens, and nods slowly. Going into his desk, Aiden checks his paperwork, and then looks over to Coradel.

"There is something I believe you would wish to see. Do you have time yet this afternoon? I would direct you to an address, and if you wish, you may borrow conveyance from our garage.

As he goes to his desk, she looks back to the mare, and again offers her fingers to be snuffled if she chooses.

A puzzled expression as she turns to him. "I don't understand. What is it?"

Holly - Ereglöss... lips at her hands in a friendly manner.

A sad smile as she strokes the mare's nose. "Sweet one."

"I think it is best that you see for yourself." Aiden says, offering out an address, no further explanation forthcoming. "It is perhaps under an hour's drive, this time of day. We can discuss further about your donation, on your return."

She's mystified as she takes the paper, looking at the address, and shakes her head. "I suppose I have the time." Then a bemused glance at him. "Cruel, SilverWolf. You must have heard I was fostered by an Eiluned."

"I have nothing but the utmost respect for my Sister House." He says, with the aura of a saint.

"Speak to Shelly when you arrive. I trust all will be made clear."

"Shelly," she repeats. "Shall I tell her the Baron of SilverWolf sent me, or...?"

"She is Kithain, a Clurichaun. Tell her that I sent you, yes."

Should she agree, she is guided to the garage and lent use of Aiden's own car, granting that she has a license or 'sufficient knowledge'. If she's willing to test out a sleek and sporty Lexus convertible.

Of course there IS Marigold's sedan if she prefers something more sensible, after all, sports cars are dangerous.

She has a license, and is well-familiar with sports cars (and of course she doesn't see herself as a reckless driver at all!), so she accepts the loan, and sets out to see what is there. In her impulsiveness, she might have neglected to mention her absence or destination to Gideon.....

Surely he won't notice or mind.

(PAUSE!)

Coradel is making excellent time to her destination.

Road, more road, trees, and nothing, other than the occasional gas station. It's a lovely drive in an excellent car, wind through her hair, but she may start to wonder if this is a wild goose chase.

Then she passes a billboard that catches her eye..

And another, a couple miles further down.

And another...

A flare of anger at the images of mistreatment...and she checks the address of the rescue. Is this it?

It is... it has to be, as there's nothing else for quite a ways around, unless she's interested in a bait n tackle shop.

In fact, there is a lady standing out near the drive in - Just barely topping 5', with curly strawberry blond hair and a brimmed hat to keep off the sun - she waves at the car as Coradel approaches.

She pulls up and parks, then steps out, taking in the surroundings.

Perhaps the Baron sent her down this road of billboards denouncing cruelty as a cruel reminder of the crime her host committed... but if so, that doesn't explain the pleasant smile of the face of the Clurichaun who greets her with a tip of her hat and a wave.

They sure took advantage of cheap land out here in thie middle of nowhere - expansive paddocks, riding rings, stables and buildings. It's not fancy, but it's not run-down, really - servicable, is a good term. And... it has a cheery feel to it, at least based on the sign with the bright Sun - "Sunshine Equine Ranch and Rescue" and "Angel Acres".

"Shelly, I presume?" she says with a smile.

"Shelly O'Rourke, at your service, ma'am. Mr. Lowell said to expect a visitor. Why, you're dressed for riding already. Mind you," She warns with a somewhat sad smile, "Not many of our horses are riding horses, but some are. Come on, pull around, you can park by the office."

A large sign proclaims:

Remember the Three R's!

ReHabilitate
ReTrain
ReHome

A success story has left Sunshine!

(A cartoony pony grins and points to words.

"Oh, I was wearing this already, I wasn't expecting to ride here. I wasn't even sure where Mr. Lowell was sending me!" she laughs. "This looks like an interesting facility. How long have you been at it?"

"Oh, I've been here for years! Sunshine Rescue was here before me - they specialize in the Three R's." Nodding to the board. "Mostly rehoming retired Standardbred racehorses, though no friend on four hooves is turned away. Many learn to accept saddle and rider, or adapt well to light carriage or cart work - we have a relationship with the local Amish."

Walking and talking about the facility, which is a 501c charity and completely founded on donations.

Coradel nods. "I'm in the equine program at college, and some of what I've been studying is vetrinary care. I've heard some very tragic stories about rescues."

Shelly looks delighted!

"That's wonderful! Sunshine does great work, really, and we get a lot of interns coming in from similar programs. If you're local and looking for on-site hours, we'd love to have you."

At the last about rescues, Shelly sighs, and nods. "Sunshine is the sunnier end of business. Me? I handle Angel Acres. Your friend, Mr. Lowell- He's one of our angel investors."

Leading past a paddock where a small and motley herd of horses graze, and around to a smaller set of stables.

"It's the nature of most Orgs to go for the easily adoptable. I can't blame them, to be honest. When the humane society picks up rescues, they are cherry picked for the ones that need a little TLC, some re-feeding, trim overgrown hooves and tame the skittish."

"Yes, I've seen that. But there are many that are simply not so easily treated."

A nod, and she taps herself on the nose. "Oh, yes. What's left, comes to us, you see. We do not turn any horse down, adoptable or not." She glances around to ensure that no mortals are in hearing distance,

"I'm Clurichaun from my mother's side, boggan from my father. Turns out, it's the perfect combination for my work. I'm driven to help, and cannot turn down a long face. I collect rescue cases, you see. The given-ups, the too-hards, and the too-expensives, and the irredeemable, here they can live out their time in peace and dignity."

"That's an extremely admirable endeavor. It must be tragic, though. Many must be in so much pain. And I'm certain you're often faced with opting for a kind end rather than a lengthy demise."

As they walk, she points out a few stalls.

"Bronco there won't take a saddle or bit, but he's sweet as pie if you want to pat him or brush his coat. Honeybear had shoes left on for so long that her hooves grew over them, and she cannot be shod, but lives happily on soft pasture. "

They head onward.

"Mister L told me you were interested in one of our older investigations. It's not a pleasant one, but if you're going into the trade, perhaps it's best you hear the dark end of things. Untreated saddle sores is one thing, that can be ignorance. But to whip a beast and dig in spurs enough to cause open wounds and infection bad enough to cause sepsis and systemic shock? Well, it's a good think I'm in the rescue and not revenge business, I just haven't the heart to pour into both. Have to trust karma and da'an to do the work for me."

Coradel admires each animal in turn. They may have been rejected for one failing or another, but she recognizes the strengths that Shelly points out.

And then she pauses. "Yes." After a moment she says more clearly, "Yes, it was kind of him to send me in this direction, if you have information that might help me beyond what I already know."

She's gone tense. She tries to conceal it, to grace along with the same curious gaze at this and that.

The final paddock they head for is deserted but for grass grown high from lack of any grazing. Green and lush, with wildflowers, but empty.

"Creatures that sick needs to be put down. There's no saving the poor souls."

The sign on it says, "Grazing Grounds for Angels on Hooves".

"Would you like to go inside, Miss?" It seems that Aiden didn't give the clurichaun Coradel's name.

She is not about to provide her name, not if this woman knows what Chloe did, not if she could connect Coradel to it.... no, she merely nods and steps into the paddock. "What is this?"

A tingle of glamour washes over her as she steps through the veil, and sees that the paddock is not empty, but has quite a few horses grazing happily within!

Shelly follows her, closing the gate carefully. "This is where we keep our special cases. Completely on the hush-hush. You see, some horses could be saved, but the owners would keep up their same bad habits. The law allows for a fine- a FINE, in all but the worst cases.

Unless you win a lawsuit, the horse goes back to the 'owner'.

These horses, my lady, are stolen. But I trust you had an idea, if th' Baron sent you here." She guesses. "Not that I question him, you see, that would be looking, oh - looking our gift horse in the mouth."