your butterfly love just flutters around

Strange though it is to reflect upon, the little foal which Zhuge helped to birth before the battle at Red Cliff is all of a year old. The milestone is one that Zhuge takes deeply to heart, having made a promise months ago never to break her in and turn her into a war horse of any kind; by this age, the horses which they made use of in the army would surely have undergone heavy training, each largely sequestered in its own hall. By contrast, Meng Meng has been given free rein practically since her arrival, allowed to take the lead in wandering the island, and always at least given the expanse of the livestock field to trot around as she pleased. As a result, she has quite the attitude for a horse of her age, Zhuge finds, and isn't even half as disciplined as she was in those first few weeks with Xiao Qiao.

Zhuge loves it. He's pretty sure it gives her character.

The two of them spend this afternoon with the birds, Zhuge trying to encourage some good behavior out of the horse, enough so he can direct her from a distance, should the island give him reason to. She protests at the halter carefully affixed to her head, pawing occasionally at the ground and whining piteously, but it doesn't take ten minutes before she does a full round by the fence as instructed, before coming to Zhuge for her lump of sugar.

"Duo hao na," he murmurs as he pets her muzzle. "Very good girl."