Ophelia Devine

The smell of pine trees and fresh crisp air filled Seraphina’s nose with each breathe. The cold air surrounded the small group as the horses stamped their feet with impatience, eager to be off again. Puffs of fog emitted from lips and noses as the riders as the pleasant conversation lilted through the air, effectively scaring off nearby game.

Not that it mattered, Seraphina thought, as she reached a leather gloved hand down to pat her mare’s neck. They were after bigger game than the rabbits and foxes that might be near. They were stalking stag this morning. Although with Mrs. Devine among their party Seraphina found this quite unlikely. The young woman chattered incessantly and could barely stay seated in her saddle. The sharp eyes of Miss Nott had taken in the former Miss Dippet’s behavior since they had departed from Devine stables. Seraphina could easily see this as a shortcoming of the young wife’s upbringing. Surely everyone in the party could. But it would have been rude not to invite the wife of the host on such an outing. No matter, Seraphina’s own skills would capture the attention of the day, she was quite sure.

Below her, Sorel, stamped her feet impatiently, ready to move. Seraphina had taken Sorel on enough hunts that she knew Sorel preferred to be galloping through the woods, a verifiable army on her tale, in chase of her mistress’s quarry. Soon. Seraphina promised her mare silently with a rub of her neck. Soon they would be on their way.

Not a moment later the horns sounded and they were on their way again, wands out and reins in hand. Seraphina leaned forward on Sorel, urging the mare to go faster. The wind surged around her, tugging at her carefully pinned hat and her tight riding jacket but having no success in ridding her of either object. Soon Seraphina had outstripped most of the party, Sorel thundered behind the heels of the hunting party. A smile formed on Seraphina’s face as she squinted for their quarry. She could almost make out the white tail of the doe they were chasing, almost get enough of a sight that she might be able to bring the creature down. Faster. She urged Sorel, nudging her knees into the mare’s sides in silent command.

The glimmer of a spell passed by Seraphina, chasing the doe - and landing with a loud crash in the trunk of a tree beside the deer. The deer bolted to the side and soon was lost among the trees, as the hounds grew confused by the spell and began to circle the tree. With a sigh Seraphina reigned Sorel in, turning to see who had cast the ill fated spell. The former Miss Dippet sat atop her mount wand out and a shocked look on her face. It didn’t take much to see that Miss Dippet had been the one to bring the chase to an ill fated end.

Steering Sorel toward Mrs. Devine, Seraphina gave the woman a venomous smile. “Well aimed, Mrs. Devine. Perhaps I can give you some pointers?” She asked sweetly, almost too sweetly, as the males in their party began the search for a new quarry to try and find.