When Cajun had been born, Ramona had been ecstatic. His build had been the perfect mixture of Arabian and Thoroughbred even since that very first day. With the typical Thoroughbred deep chest, lean body, long flat muscles, well angled shoulders, and lean but powerful haunches and the Arabian compact body that suggested strength and speed, powerful hindquarters, elegantly arched neck, fine silky mane and tail, and a refined head, he had prooven more beautifully made than she had anticipated.

His physical presence suggested refinement, power, agility, and elegance. She had expected no less from his Arabian, red-chestnut mother (Painted Robin) and his beautiful, black, thoroughbred father ( Ace of Spades). Ramona had been even more delighted when his red-chestnut foal coat had given away to reveal a rich black-chestnut adult coat that mimicked the reach color of his grandfather (Roman Candle ). He even carried his mother’s white star in the center of his forehead, and the two white stockings on his back legs, like his father.

To her investor’s satisfaction, Cajun had grown to be over 17 hands high, putting to rest the theory that an Anglo-Arab is always a runt-horse. At least none of them had doubted her enough to call her a fool and forbid the use of their finest bloodlines to create Cajun. Even so, they were all grumbling the immorality of a woman being in charge of something like horse breeding. Funny, she had thought after nearly 600 years that views like that would change.

Men where men no matter what time you lived in.

Ramona smiled with genuine happiness as she stared into Cajun’s wide intelligent eyes. She had always had a strong connection with horses, but he was the first she had raised and trained single-handedly in many, many years. He was energetic, athletic, a quick learner, alert, and sensitive to the slightest changes in his world. The tiniest change in the tone and pitch or Ramona’s voice alerted him to behaviors as quickly as the slightest change in the air’s temperature altered his instincts of the changing weather. Knowing this, she stood still and hummed quietly, soothing him before the rush of the race.

When he lowered his head and nickered, Ramona chuckled and patted the side of his head. He was a fine beast indeed, even when she was annoying him.

“All right, Cajun, I know your ready to be out of there, just wait a little while longer, the jockey will be on his way shortly.” She chocked slightly over the last of her words. A new jockey, indeed! She was small enough that she had always been at least one pound under the required weight, and yet the investors she’d taken on to keep business running had threaten to bankrupt her entirely if she dared to jockey this particular horse. Of course, she assumed she could have easily changed their minds, if she had wanted, but she did so try to live life under “fair” terms with mortals. She simply had demanded ownership of Cajun in return, and he’d be transported well outside of Demaitre after this evening’s race was over. He’d have several miles of open land out where she kept her stables, plenty of room to stretch his legs, and plenty of other fine horses to race.

When the call went up for the jockeys to retrieve their horses, Ramona gave Cajun one last pat, and left for the stands. The late races where the only ones she could personally get out to see, and Cajun’s first race taking place at ten in the evening had been a blessing. The track and stands were well lit and ready for the steeple-chase that would soon be underway. But Ramona was busily trying to hide herself in the throng of mortals. She usually jockeyed because out on the track she was unlikely to meet another immortal. In the stands with all the betters of high and low class she had a far greater change at making a run-in that she would prefer not to have. It was the one major downfall of having come to this city, she supposed. Far too many immortals in one location made it very hard for Gitana Ramona to stay hidden as some wealthy mortal heiress.

A horse seemed to be sick. A horse was'nt standing. Soon the horse was'nt living at all.
As everybody walked past, Jesperiox slowly ended a brown horses life. He could not stand anymore, he was so thirsty. With a gulping sound he drank directly from the animals leg.
As a homeles vampire, Jesperiox was allways thirsty. Allmost allways :mean:

Ramona had only just found a seat when an odd sort of pressure made her chest tight, as if something were constricting her heart. Fear thudded into her as she stood, her sharp eyes scanning the track below for Cajun. She found him being led to the track, his deep red, almost black body a fine contrast to the dark green blanket on his back. With him insight Ramona’s fear ebbed away enough that her mind cleared. A calm coolness replaced the usual zest of liveliness that she kept around her, the sense of her timeless life giving her and aura of power that saturated the air around her. Uncertain of what she would find, Ramona felt it better to be prepared.

Slowly, she cut her way through the crowds and made her way back to the stables. The last time she’d felt like this, Cajun had been only been a few days old and terrified of thunderstorm that had rolled over the skies. This was somehow similar, and yet strangely different, amplified as if several people were saying the same thing at the same time.

Ramona stilled and listened a moment. She could smell the blood on the air now, a trace beneath the thousands of other scents. Had it been the oh so familiar scent of human blood, Ramona likely would have turned and walked back the other way… but this was animal blood, horse blood. No mare here was primed for birth, and she knew it. Breeders and owners were not allowed to bring heavy mares into a stressful environment like this - it was considered cruelty.

Silent feet carried her past each stall, some of the horses from prier races standing stock still and shaking inside them. It was unreal, none of them made a sound, yet all of their eyes rolled as if a snake rested beneath their noses. Dread clogged her throat and Romano stepped into the only stall that looked empty, and yet should have been occupied.

Dread turned to rage in the space of a second. Before her a dead horse was prone on the ground and what smelled like a newborn fledgling immortal was firmly attached to one of it’s legs.

For the first time in centuries Ramona’s vision clouded with a deep red haze that mimicked the wicked, crimson glow that tainted them. Baring her fangs in an angry snarl, she snatched out and snagged the collar of the fledgling’s shirt with the intent of throwing him down the nearest deep, dark whole and burying him there.

Her fingernails sliced through the fabric as she yanked, her usually calm, cool features twisted into a mask of fury. “You twisted peace of filth, get up!”

"Who are you? Let me go! Let me finish my food, it's inpolite disturb people when they're eating, don't you know that?"
His voice was allmost a whisper, and his breath had a stench of horseblood. He licked his fangs.
"Oh I see, you feel pity for this animal?" he pointed at the dead horse and started to laugh. "Then I must say you're silly. Besides, the jockey will not miss him." He started to laugh hystericly.
"Or mayby, I have taken your snack, is that so? please tell me. If that's it, you should thank me, because it tasted bad. A little to wild to me, if you ask" said the young vampire. He seemed to have forgoten his position, and was obviusly trying to make a conversation.

Ramona stared at him in a sort of dumbfounded silence before her features twisted in disgust and she dropped him. Nothing more than some orphan immortal. Her eyes snapped around the area, taking in everything to make certain his maker wasn’t lurking somewhere near by, and she calmed down when she found none.

Her vision cleared as she looked down at the pathetic thing by the horse and measured him in distaste. He seemed utterly fowl to her delicate sensibilities. With a gentler hand she dragged him back up to his feet and gave him a shake. “You feed from one of my horses and I’ll rip your throat out.”

She released him from her grasp and looked him over. A shout went up out at the stands, and an announcement was made that Cajun of Amador had won the race. Ramona let out a slow sigh, and narrowed her eyes at the fledgling. “Clean yourself up, and follow me, if you please, I’d rather you not be found next to a dead horse as the jockies are led back in.”

"Actualy, I was thinking about taking the jockey while at it, but now that I have lost my apetite, ok"
He said with a nod. Bloodstains was remaining in his face. "Okay where are we going?" He stood up and smiled like a schoolboy

Ramona snarled as she snatched out and grabbed his collar again. She was nearly considering dragging him through the nearest batch of thorn bushes, but thought better of it and simply tried to pull him close as she reached out to wipe his face clean of the horse’s blood. The crimson color diluted beneath the intense black of her sleeve, “we are getting you the hell out of here before you make any more of a special. It is enough of a scandal just to have a dead horse on my hands.”

She let him go, considering leaving him with the frail hope that someone would put a well placed bullet into his head or heart… more likely he’d be capable of killing several humans at once. He was a fledgling, and a stupid one at that… but he was still an immortal with certain, painfully obvious advantages.

"So, where are we going then?" said the little vampire. He was hearing the humans coming and to be honest he did'nt want more blood.
"Are you angry?" he aded childishly. He knew so little about the immortal customs, and thaught he may had done something wrong, bit he still thaught that the horse and the humans was a small problem.

Ramona had to hold her breath and count to ten before she even dared to open her mouth again. "We are leaving, my men know what to do with my horse."

She frowned blackly as she walked carefully around the limp body of the horse to study the high back wall. As with most racing stables the wall did not quite reach the ceiling, leaving just enough room for someone to squeeze through. This way, no one would see their leaving the stall. Never one to expend too much of her energy, Ramona merely hopped, catching the edge of the wall with her hands, an lithely hauled herself up. She balanced on the thin bit of wood, studying the parking lot for prying eyes before she turned back to the younger immortal and held one of her hands out to him. “Fledgling, give me your hand.”

"Oh, eh, okay!(?)"
Jesperiox streched out his hand and studdied in the same time her's. "What a beautiful hand" he thaught.

Ramona took his hand and hauled him up. She was non-too-gentle about it, but she was more worried about covering their tracks. As soon as she had gotten up the wall, Ramona pushed him off the opposite side and hopped down beside him. This was why she’d never made an immortal to attach to herself… fledglings were too much trouble to have around while one was also running a business.

“Come on,” she muttered, her speech being harshly clipped, her Romany accent become thick with her frustration. She snatched at his wrist to keep him from possibly launching himself at mortals that passed them along their way to the parking lot.

“So, who are yu, and vhere do yu liv, so that I con keep an eye on yu?” Ramona paused, sighed, and repeated herself. “Who are you, and where do you live? This way I can keep an eye on you.”

"I live in an abbandoned balchony, but I don't know the addres, nor the street. Somehow I allways find my way back." he said, with some sorrow in his voice.
Jesperiox didn't know if he liked that someone would watch him or not, but in the other hand, he allmost liked that a fellow, fellow, fellow thing tried to take care of him, in a sort of way.

Some random balcony on some random street somewhere in the far too large city west of them.

Wonderful.

Ramona took another deep breath, then leveled her eyes on the fledgling as they walked. Her senses stretched out before them, keeping track of any and every living thing that came within twenty yards of them. It took a good deal of her attention, but it seemed by far the smartest thing to do. “Well, I’ll drive, you just give out the directions, does that sound fair?”

Jesperiox started to feel anoyed
"Please, I am not planing to just lunge at someone at random" he thaught.
"I think we can drive allong this road." he said, absent-minded. "And I think you can let me go now, Im'e not planing to attack someone. Im'e not stupid.

“But you aren’t smart, either.” She grinned out right as she rounded to face him, her brows rising high in challenge as she took a step toward him.

“You, fledgling, were snacking on a race horse over there. A prized one, by the look of it. Now, chances are that at least one mortal saw you lingering around the stables. Chances are, that one could have seen your mouth latched firmly onto a horse’s leg, as well as the blood that you so carelessly let dribble al over yourself. Chances are, if a mortal did not see you, one of the many camras inside and out of the stalls did catch you. Chances are, you drank far too much and could become ill. Chances are, if you got ill on your way home, you could be laid-up outside as the sun came up, and you would become a very dead fledgling.”

She eyed him, looking him over in a slow brush of her deep brown eyes, their icy flacks glinting with distaste. “Lets not mention that you have no idea of your place in the grand scheme of things. Granted, I am no ancient at nearly 600 years. But, you, not even half way to 100 are you? Barely 50, if even close? You are new, I can smell it on you. You should behave as such.”

"No! You are lying! It can't be possible! No one can be one hundred years! It's " He tried to pull himself to gain more distance, but failed to retriev his hand. "Or is it? does one get a extended life when he is turned into a, what did you cal it? a fledglyng?" He said, and he didn't notice it, but he sounded very hopefull.

Ramona took a slow, deep breath to keep from laughing at the absurdness of the situation. She gentled her voice, trying take the predator out of her behavior again. “Do you actually mean to tell me you don’t even know what you are? When I call you ‘fledgling,’ I am calling you ‘young vampire’.”

She chuckled as she backed away, gave him a little room to breath, and yet stayed plenty close enough to catch him if he ran. It happened, she had heard, that some rejected the truth. Part of her rather hoped this one wouldn’t make her chase him. “Lets see, as I am 549 years old, if I remember correctly, of course, I think I began to loose count a little around 112... Yes, it is entirely possible to be several hundred year sold. There are those that are thousands of years old, I have heard. Though, I myself have never had the pleasure of meeting such a one as that.”

She shrugged absently, and then began to grin again. “Where is your maker?”

"Maker? I don't understand. Are you trying to stay that Im'e not born this way?"
Jesperiox looked at, as he had found out, the older vampire.This day was more and noore confusing.

“No,” Ramona smiled slightly, her image of the fledgling before her changing slowly. “You aren’t born this way naturally. Rather born very unnaturally through death.” She chuckled, settling her hands on her hips as she looked him over in a new light. A child, she supposed, treat him as if he were a child.

“And here I long since swore off having anymore children, adopted or otherwise.”

Ramona chuckled as she raked her hand through her hair, agitating the mass of heavy curls pinned at the back of her neck. The gesture was so like that of her maker, her second father. “Well, lets try something else,” she turned as she spoke, walking toward the line of parked cars once more. “Lets start with names, what is your name, fledgling?”

"My name is Jesperiox, I think it is, because it sounds right."
He liked the tone of her voice, as it sounded now. He felt that it spoke to him, not a guy bellow him. "Jay is shorter, if you like that."

“Jay it is then.” She paused when she got to her car and looked back to him with a faint smile. “I am Ramona, however Ray works just fine if you like short names.”

She chuckled as she unlocked the doors, wondering absently what she was going to do with a fledgling? She’d feel guilty as hell if she just set him up and left him at this unknown corner of nowhere. Where was better? “Do you still feel inclined to come along, or would you rather walk?”

“I think I rather walk, thank you. I think I know the way from here.” He looked around, and started to walk in a direction. “Yes, this looks rigtht.” He mumbled absently. The after a few stepps he turned and said, very quick: “and I will leave your horses. Do not worry”.
He contineud to walk.
He wondered if she was glad to get rid of him. “To be honest” he thaught “horse was the worst ever. You got to admit that.!” He smiled. “Yes” he said to himself “never again.”

Ramona chuckled lightly, and slid into her car. Part of her felt guilty, like she was leaving a fiver year old childe to walk home. She had to remind herself that he was an immortal, after all, and undoubtedly capable of caring for himself… at least in his ability to walk to where he needed to be.

She shrugged, deciding that a fledgling not of her make was not her responsibility, and not for her to worry about. Tapping back her guilt, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed back into the city. She would check on Cajun and the stud tomorrow.

Maximilian had waited near the racetrack, near the stables where, so he had found out, Ramona kept the horses. He had looked at a few, and heard some commotion about a dead horse, but it had not been his problem.
People had noticed him strolling around, but none had cared. He had made certain they did not care, for their eyes he was invisible.
The bell rang, and horses flew from the boxes for a late race.
He did not care to watch, as his interest was caught by an impressive stallion, looking out of his stall, almost as if he was making sure as if everything on his 'property' was to his liking.
He was magnificent, and somewhere Max sneakily hoped this was the stallion Ramona had been talking about.

Ramona hit the brakes a little too hard, another wave of guilt hitting her, this time for her neglect of Cajun. He’d given his all on that race track, after all. His spirit was in the race as much as her own was when she jockeyed.

“Foc si iad,” the curse rolled off her tongue as she turned right back into park. She didn’t lock the car this time, it seemed rather pointless. She would see to Cajun’s care, and then she would leave. Quick and simple. She’d be damned if she was going to spend one more night without a decent meal.

As she came back down the hill and rounded the stalls the sounds of commotion floated to her. She felt a fresh wave of heart ache over the beauty that had been killed. The poor beast hadn’t even realized the danger it had accepted into it’s company. She sighed and shook it all off, all that didn’t matter, Cajun mattered.

As she came around the stalls, she saw the set of men she had asked to help transport Cajun; Jack Landson and his two sons were already putting things into motion. Ace, the youngest boy at nearly 16, stopped and waved to her with a hearty smile that set Ramona’s nerves at ease. She did so enjoy their trust. She returned his wave, and then walked along the stalls down to where she saw Cajun’s refined head held high in regal supplication. He wanted out, already tired of standing in one place. She laughed, happy to see his intelligent gaze swing toward her direction. He nickered, and she nearly felt the rush of recognition hit her. He stamped at the earth and swung his head, showing off his youthful spirit for anyone willing to take a look.

Ramona felt herself swell with pride, but she was so trained to the needs of her horse that she didn’t really notice Max even as she came up beside him. Instead, she reached out to gently stroke Cajun’s cheek, shushing him as her voice purred over romani words that seemed to sooth him. “A fi liniste , meu dulciuri. Noi voinþã a voi have tu afarã de acolo înãuntru chiar un sort timp.”


CoC:

Translation

“Foc ºi Iad,” -- Fire (and/of) Hell

“A fi liniste , meu dulciuri. Noi voinþã a voi have tu afarã de acolo înãuntru chiar un sort timp.” -- “Be silent, my sweet. We will have you out of there in just a moment.”

Maximilian watched silently, a few stables ahad as men came to transort the stallion to wherever he would go. It didn't surprise him that Ramona came soon afterwards, afteral, if the stallion was her prized one he could understand perfectly. Transporting horses with automobiles was rather new to him, so he with silent curiousity he watched as the trailer came nearer.
"Where is he going?" he asked suddenly, demanding her attention with these words.

Ramona nearly sprang out of her skin as she snapped around to face the source of the voice. Cajun jerked his head up, nervously side stepping in his stall, and Ramona flattened her hand against her hest as she realized she was looking up at Max. She laughed, her thudding heart slowing steadily, “you scared me nearly into a faint, you know that?”

She chuckled as she turned back to Cajun, shushing him gently. “For a moment I thought may hap and ancient had walked up behind me, I am terribly sorry, I didn’t even notice your smell. I am worried, you see, it is a long ride for Cajun, getting all the way out to Durnishire.”

Once Cajun was settled down and nibbling at Ramona’s palm, she turned her full attention on Max, smiling with pride. “This is the one I told you about by the way, he is my beauty. And he is going directly to the stud. I just hope we get there before midnight.”

She shrugged slightly, but as she turned back to face Cajun she made a simple introduction between horse and man. “You are of course welcome to come along, if you like. I am sure Cajun wont mind the extra company once we get to the stud.”

"Ah well..." He said with a grin. "I have that effect on women.." He had brought it as a joke, but his gaze was still locked upon the stallion looking at him suspiciously. "He is sure I'm goign to bite.."
He shurgged, hearing her explenation for this transport. "So he's going to the stud, do you previous investors know about this? Or are you stealing your own horse?" He loved the idea htat perhaps those fat rich men would awake and find out that the stallion which brought in the money was gone.
"I wouldn't mind coming along, I have nothing else to do, I came here by cab... I still can't ride a car..." He said with a little dissapointed shrug.
"Love the idea tho, can't find an instructor who wishes to teach me at night.."

“Well, the agreement that he is mine is known to all, but the fact that I am putting him to pasture tonight may not be agreed on, but I did make mention of it. You can take the situation as you please.” Ramona chuckled dubiously as she unhooked the stall door and stepped inside. Her hand stroked over the fine velvet of Cajun’s side and her soft murmuring continued to keep him calm.

“Don’t worry too much about him, Max, he is just skittish. After all, he did grow up knowing the smell of an immortal undead. Your scent being something other than human isn’t going to upset him unless you keep a Mountain Lion as a pet?”

"No, I don't have a mountain lion as apet, but don't tell him about the dragon I keep in my backyard.." He said with a bit of humor in his voice, then smiled a little.
He watched silently as the stallion was installed in the truck, ready to depart.
"Is it far to where you are taking him?" He glanced backwards, as if he was doubting that the truck could safely bring the horse to where they wanted him to be.
"You know, you could have just ridden him to where you want him... are you sure nothing will happen in that thing?" Long ago, when he had still been a mortal, they had always ridden the horses. Horses were transport. If any horse had to be taken to anywhere, they would ride it to there. Even the prized racehorses of that time, or newly bought hunthorses.
He had never really trusted cars. The smelly, nosiy, fast-riding mnsters.
He followed Ramona to the front of the truck, and noticed the rather high step. His brow wrinkled as he foresaw the problem, glancing quickly at his limp knee before he thought of a plan to get up there..

Ramona stopped and smiled to herself, working over an idea before she turned and faced him. An impish gleam touched her eyes, and she motioned vaguely to the back of the truck.

“Would you like to ride with him? I am somewhat over protective of my horses, that is why I use a trailer big enough for two even though I am transporting one. Someone always rides with them, and I can just make Jake drive my car home for me.”

Her voice grew as impishly infectious as her smile as she shut the truck door and spun around to head for the back of the truck, knocking lightly at the side to get Jack’s attention.

“What do you think, Max, are you up for it?”

He gave her a charming smile, yet a glimpse of mournful irritation reached his eyes. "Oh it is not that I am not up to it my dear..." He said, his tone carrying a slight saracastic tone, more pointed at himself than at the woman who had asked him the question with such an impish grin.
"But I fear my knee has a saying too," He said it with slight humor, but it was evident that he had to grithis teeth and swallow his pride to even say it.
"I may have been young in heart and mind when I was made Ramona, but my body was already tattered and damaged."
He shurgged, having a most displeased look on his face, tapping his cane on the ground once again in irritation.

"Well," Ramona looked nearly gleeful as she tapped on the back of the trailer. "You are lucky, there is a nice ramp leading into the back to get in with you horses."

Jack pocked his head out through one of the windows and yelled down, "what do you want, Rone?"

He was agrivated, Cajun was probably pushing him around the trailer again. "Open the back and let me in before Cajun turns you into part of the trailer wall."

Jack cursed and dropped back into the trailer, leaving Ramona giggling at his expence.

"Besides, I noticed your knee, and I am glad to know a man that can swallows his pirde as gravefully as you do. Though, I admit I am sad for being one responcible for making it happen."

She stood back and waited as jack lowered the ramp and passed her keys to him as she stepped out. "Come on, you can stand the whole way, or sit on the hay, I don't care. But it is much easier to get in here than up in the cab."

"Then I will do just that..." He replied, knowing that it was meant as a compliment that she called his swallowed pride gracefull. Yet he felt totally different abut it, but kept his tongue.
After all, she was not the horse who threw him off, making him land on his knee. But then again, he would have just loved the idea of just climbing up in that truck, without having to worry if his knee was strong enough.
So the trailer seemed just fine, for this limping old, agrivated man who once against cursed his immortality and a limping knee.
"Does Cajun always travel alone?" He asked, wanting to take his mind of the subject. "Does he have no stablemate? An old pony, or perhaps a retired horse?"

“Oh, no. I stable him with Ace of Spades.” She smiled at Max as she pulled up the trailer door and locked them shut from the inside. Her heels were discarded in favor of walking barefoot over the clean hay. “Ace is his father. These two are the fastest studs in my stable. Though his mother has beaten ace once or twice.”

“Sometimes,” she whispered as if to keep Cajun from hearing, “I think Ace let her win to get more stud-work done.” She chuckled at the idea, but he had to admit that horses were just as fun spirited and playful as people.

“Cajun, however, has never let anyone beat him, not even Ace.” She swelled with pride as she rubbed down Cajun’s side. Ramona leaned against him when the trailer lurched as the truck began to pull them around the stables nice and slow.

She stroked Cajun's gleeming side to keep him calm as she rested her forhead against him, listening to him breath as she crunched away on the hay. Cajun nickered softly at her, and she smiled with afection as she patted his side.

“He’s truly my most prized, this one.”