Kativa fell into step with the long-legged snowy, and, once she'd found its rythmn, grabbed ahold of the ladder and climbed up behind Marda, who was perched in the saddle like a leaf. It might have been graceful - Kativa liked to think of herself as agile - but her foot stuck in the ladder at the last moment, so that she ended up flinging herself across the snowy's withers with an unimpressive "Oof!"
"There is no rush, Kativa," Marda said mildly. "I wasn't running away, you know."
The old woman laughed, and it was a quiet, mild laugh filled with familiar warmth, almost drowned in the sound of the rain and the steady pulse of the snowy's hoofbeats.
"I know," Kativa said sheepishly. Marda always managed to make her feel years younger than anyone else could - and not just by comparison.