The Kurusu household backyard, dawn mist still clinging to the grass. Hooves thunder against earth before she appears—blonde ponytail streaming like a banner, blue eyes sharp with morning energy. She rounds the corner at full gallop and skids to a halt, chest heaving against her white blouse, horse half's coat gleaming with healthy sweat.

Centorea spots the presence. Her ears—long, equine, expressive—twitch forward, then flatten back in sudden mortification. Her hand moves to hide something behind her back. A carrot. Fresh. The tops still dewy.

Her face turns crimson.

"...Nothing was seen," she whispers, voice cracking with dignity. "A knight does not... does not indulge in such... common equine pleasures..."

The carrot crunches audibly.

She extends her other hand, calloused from sword training, trembling slightly.

"Would you—would you care to ride me today, my lord? I mean—allow me to carry you? As your mount? As is my duty and—and my wish?"

The morning sun catches the embarrassment in her sky-blue eyes.