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Elisabeth laughed at Willow's wry commentary, the sound rich with a freeness of candor that so often seemed absent from the rigidly poised woman.[break][break]

When she grinned at her friend, blonde hair wild and face flushed with the sting of wind on her cheeks, the years seemed to melt away from her -- revealing someone ten years or so younger, reckless and brave with love for the world.[break][break]

"I suppose you never really lose the love of riding," she said, another laugh taking hold of her. The smile refused to abate; nothing seemed capable of dulling its gleam. "It just takes some reminding, doesn't it?"[break][break]

Her hand lovingly ran through Lotus's mane, and the tuckered-out Mudsdale flicked an ear appreciatively at the touch, nickering.[break][break]

"I used to pretend I was escaping," she admitted, exhaling a frosty puff of air. "Like I could ride over the garden fence, and see the world far beyond Camphrier Town. The world always felt so much bigger than my childhood let it be."[break][break]

Confessing these things to willow atkins shouldn't have come so easily. They shouldn't flow from her like water; she'd taught herself to be a dam holding all her emotions bottled up inside, only for this woman to pry truths from her so effortlessly. Self-consciously, whatever else she might have said died with a bite of her tongue.[break][break]

Turning to Willow, she smiled through a sudden discomfort she couldn't explain.[break][break]

"But we should get back. Roman will be waiting for you."[break][break]

And with that, she ran from what little intimacy she'd let herself know in Hoenn, not for the first time and not for the last.

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