Lashan catches that drift of thoughts and bites back an indignant response, for one because she knows better than to let on that she's listening in, for two because her impulsive youth is far behind her, and for three because she can in fact recognize that it's silly that this near-dismissal of her personal sword rankles as much as consigning poor Safflower to rough strangers who wouldn't understand her value.

"Sure. Give her shoulder a slap on that side, that'll let her know not to turn sharply or do something creative when you lean down." Lashan looks back over her shoulder. "I suppose I should tell you the commands for fighting with her. She'll rear or kick on command. Hasn't actually seen combat like Thistle here, but we've got her trained not to bolt when things get lively."