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                    Libra couldn’t recall ever being so close to any pegasi before joining up with the Shepherds. There was simply no opportunity for it; he’d kept mostly to his convent and spoke only to his brothers and sisters of the cloth before they’d been slain in the desert sands in eastern Plegia and rarely left their company save for the occasional trip to any nearby orphanages to volunteer with the children or bring them gifts, and none of the clerics or the priests he’d surrounded himself with had kept anything but modest horses for travelling out to smaller rural villages in their company. The stable door creaked despite his best efforts to keep quiet and light on his feet as he crept inside, his charcoal-stained fingertips betraying his presence by leaving faint prints on the wood behind him. It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong, per se ( honestly, all he’d wanted was an opportunity to see one of the winged beasts up close and to maybe press his luck with a quick sketch or two if he felt daring enough afterwards ), but there was still a certain twang of guilt that caught itself a spot in his throat as his dull green eyes settled on the telltale red hair of their resident pegasi expert.

                    “Cordelia.”

                    The priest spoke softly, as though raising his voice might disturb the cicadas chirruping outside in the night.

                    "My apologies. I didn’t startle you, did I?? What is it you’re doing here??

                     Like she was the one who needed an excuse to be in the stables.