**The Ghevals**
The spring sun warmed Jukrit's back as he and Noraxia walked the final stretch of road toward the gheval breeder's farm. They'd been traveling for two days, and anticipation made every step feel lighter despite their tired legs.
"There," Noraxia said, pointing ahead where a weathered sign read "Silvermane Ghevals - Breeding and Training."
The farm sprawled across rolling hills, with multiple paddocks separated by sturdy fencing. In the distance, Jukrit could see ghevals of various sizes grazing—some as large as draft horses, others no bigger than ponies. The variety was stunning.
A raccoon woman emerged from the barn, wiping her hands on her apron. "You must be Jukrit and Noraxia. I'm Marta Silvermane. Welcome!"
"Thank you for agreeing to sell to us," Jukrit said, clasping her paw. "Your letters were very helpful in our preparations."
"I'm glad to hear it. Come, let me show you the pair I mentioned." She led them toward a large paddock where a magnificent gheval grazed. The creature was stunning—dark brown coat decorated with lighter tan stripes, powerful build, and that distinctive curved horn gleaming in the sunlight. Her mustelid claws gripped the earth as she moved, giving her an unusual grace.
"This is Kalina. Eight years old, fully trained for cart-pulling and riding. She's steady, intelligent, and has excellent health. No history of whistling lung or claw rot." Marta opened the gate and whistled. Kalina approached immediately, lowering her head for scratching.
Noraxia's eyes widened. "She's beautiful."
"She is. And she's been looking for the right home." Marta stroked Kalina's neck. "The bonded pair I mentioned in my letters... well, circumstances changed. Her partner was sold to a courier service last month—better pay than I could refuse, and the buyer needed just one. I've been trying to find Kalina a new companion ever since."
"So she's alone?" Jukrit asked, concerned.
"Not entirely. Follow me."
Marta led them to the barn, into a section with smaller stalls. She stopped at one that appeared empty at first glance, then crouched down and made a soft clicking sound.
From beneath a pile of hay, a tiny gheval emerged. She was no larger than a ferret, with a coat pattern similar to Kalina's—brown with cream stripes. Despite her diminutive size, she had the same curved horn, the same clawed feet, the same proud bearing as her larger counterparts.
"This," Marta said softly, "is Chenara."
Jukrit stared in amazement. "She's so small!"
"Adult small. Three years old, fully mature." Marta scooped up the tiny gheval gently. "Ghevals come in all sizes—it's genetic, not related to health or age. Chenara is perfectly healthy, just small. The smallest I've ever bred, actually."
Chenara chittered softly, a sound between a horse's nicker and a ferret's dook. Her tiny clawed feet gripped Marta's hand as she looked at the visitors with bright, intelligent eyes.
"She's precious," Noraxia breathed.
"She's also unique in another way." Marta set Chenara on a wooden rail where the tiny gheval could look at them at eye level. "Chenara has an extremely rare genetic condition. Every year, at the autumn equinox, she changes biological sex. This year she's female. Next autumn she'll become male. The year after, female again. It's called shifting-sex, and I've only seen it twice in thirty years of breeding."
Jukrit's healer instincts immediately engaged. "Does it cause her any discomfort? Health issues?"
"None that I can detect. The change happens over about three days. She gets sleepy, eats less, then emerges from her burrow with the transition complete. Perfectly healthy each time." Marta smiled. "The condition is harmless, just unusual. Some breeders would cull such an animal, but I find it fascinating. Besides, Chenara is special."
"How did she and Kalina become companions?" Noraxia asked.
"Kalina adopted her." Marta's expression softened. "When Chenara was young, the other small ghevals picked on her—she was too tiny to keep up with their rough play. One day I found her hiding under Kalina's belly. Kalina was standing over her protectively, and she's been Chenara's guardian ever since. They're inseparable now."
As if to demonstrate, Chenara suddenly leaped from the rail with surprising agility, scurrying between Marta's legs and out the barn door. They followed to find the tiny gheval scaling Kalina's leg using her clawed feet, climbing up to settle on the larger gheval's back between her shoulders.
Kalina turned her head to nuzzle Chenara gently, a deep rumbling purr emanating from her chest. Chenara responded with her own high-pitched version of the sound.
"See?" Marta said. "Bonded pair, just not in the traditional sense."
Jukrit looked at Noraxia, who was watching the two ghevals with an expression he recognized—the same look she'd had when they decided to buy the hoarded house.
"They're perfect," she said quietly.
"They come as a set," Marta warned. "I won't separate them. Kalina would grieve, and Chenara would be vulnerable without her protector."
"We'll take them both," Jukrit said immediately. "If you'll sell them to us."
Marta studied them carefully. "Your letters spoke of a homestead with healing practice. Four wooded acres, a barn converted for ghevals, fenced grazing. Tell me true—can you provide for both of them? Chenara has special needs despite her size. She can't forage as efficiently as larger ghevals, and she needs shelter from predators."
"We have space in the barn," Noraxia assured her. "And I'm home most days. I can watch over Chenara."
"And you understand the shifting-sex condition? That Chenara will be different come autumn?"
"I'm a healer," Jukrit said. "I've dealt with far stranger conditions. As long as it doesn't cause her pain, I see no issue. She's still herself, regardless of sex."
Marta's expression relaxed into a genuine smile. "Then I think you'll do well together. Let's discuss terms."
The negotiation was straightforward. The price for both ghevals was actually less than Jukrit had budgeted for a traditional bonded pair—Marta was more concerned with finding them a good home than making maximum profit. They settled on a fair sum, with Marta throwing in training advice, starter supplies of grain, and a custom-made saddle that could accommodate Chenara's tiny size on a rider's shoulder.
"One more thing," Marta said as they prepared to leave the next morning. "Chenara is smarter than most ghevals—has to be, given her size. She's learned to communicate her needs quite clearly. Pay attention to her sounds and behavior. And Kalina understands more commands than most horses. I'll give you the full list."
They set out with their new companions, Kalina wearing a comfortable harness that Marta had fitted, and Chenara riding in a specially padded pouch that hung from Jukrit's shoulder. The tiny gheval seemed content there, her head poking out to watch the world pass by.
The journey home was slower with Kalina in tow, but the big gheval was easy to lead. She responded well to voice commands and seemed curious about her new owners. When they stopped for lunch, she grazed peacefully while Chenara explored nearby, never straying far from Kalina's sight.
"She really does protect her," Noraxia observed, watching Kalina position herself between Chenara and a rabbit that had hopped too close.
"Marta said Chenara was bullied. Kalina must have recognized a kindred spirit—someone who needed protection." Jukrit offered Chenara a piece of dried apple. The tiny gheval sniffed it carefully before accepting, her little horn bobbing as she chewed.
That night, they camped under stars. Kalina stood watch while they slept, and Chenara curled up in Jukrit's bedroll, her tiny warm body nestled against his chest. Her purring was barely audible but deeply comforting.
They arrived home on the third day to find their property looking better than ever. The vegetable garden was thriving, the barn modifications were complete, and the fenced eastern meadow waited for its new occupants.
"Welcome home," Noraxia said to the ghevals as she opened the gate.
Kalina stepped into the meadow cautiously, testing the ground with her clawed feet. Then, satisfied, she began to explore, Chenara riding on her back. They investigated the stream, the grass, the three-sided shelter Noraxia had built.
Finally, Kalina released that deep purring sound again—contentment, Marta had called it—and Chenara echoed it in her tiny voice.
"I think they approve," Jukrit said, relieved.
The next few days were an adventure in adjustment. Kalina needed time to learn the boundaries of the property and the rhythms of the household. She was gentle and patient when Jukrit examined her claws and horn, and she quickly learned to recognize their voices.
Chenara was more complicated. Her small size meant she couldn't be left outside unattended—hawks posed a real threat. But she was clever, already learning the layout of the house and barn, finding sunny spots to nap and hiding places that made Jukrit's heart race until he located her.
"She was in my boot," he said on the fourth morning, carefully extracting the tiny gheval from where she'd curled up. "Just sleeping in there like it was a burrow."
Noraxia laughed. "At least she didn't pick one of mine. My boots are bigger than she is."
The bond between Kalina and Chenara remained their anchor through the changes. Every evening, Chenara would climb up to sleep on Kalina's back in the barn. Kalina would lower herself to make the climb easier, then settle down with her tiny companion nestled in the thick fur of her mane.
"It reminds me of us," Noraxia said on the fifth night, watching them through the barn door.
"How so?"
"Different sizes but perfect together anyway." She pulled him close. "We found our family, didn't we? Not just each other, but them too."
On the sixth day, they attempted their first real work with Kalina—hitching her to the small cart they'd purchased. She stood patiently while Jukrit fastened the harness, her ears swiveling to track his movements. Chenara supervised from her perch on a fence post, chittering what sounded like encouragement.
"Easy, girl," Noraxia murmured, checking the connections. "We're going to take a short trip to town. Nothing difficult."
Kalina took her first steps pulling the cart with careful precision. She was clearly experienced at this, her powerful shoulders managing the weight easily. Chenara scurried down from the fence and climbed into the cart, settling into a nest of blankets Jukrit had prepared.
The trip to Riverside Market was triumphant. Neighbors came out to admire the beautiful gheval, and children were enchanted by Chenara. Several people asked if Kalina was available for hire—could she pull building materials? Transport goods?
"Not yet," Jukrit said. "We're still settling in together. But perhaps in a few weeks."
That evening, back home, they sat on their porch watching the sunset. Kalina grazed in the meadow while Chenara explored the garden, her tiny form weaving between vegetable plants.
"A week ago, it was just us," Jukrit said. "Now look."
"Now we're a household," Noraxia agreed. "Four souls instead of two."
"Think we're ready for this? The responsibility?"
"I think we're learning." She squeezed his hand. "Just like we learned everything else. Together."
Chenara emerged from the garden and scurried over, climbing up Noraxia's leg to her shoulder. The tiny gheval settled there, purring softly.
"See?" Noraxia said. "She already trusts us."
In the meadow, Kalina raised her head and called—a low, melodious sound. Chenara answered with her high-pitched version, then hopped down and galloped (as much as something ferret-sized could gallop) back to her protector.
Jukrit and Noraxia watched as the two ghevals reunited, Chenara climbing up to her favorite spot on Kalina's back. The big gheval nuzzled her tiny companion gently before heading toward the barn for the evening.
"They're going to be good for us," Jukrit said.
"They already are."
As darkness fell, they checked on the ghevals one last time. Kalina was settling into her stall, Chenara already curled up in her mane. Both were purring—that deep, rumbling contentment that needed no translation.
"Goodnight, girls," Noraxia whispered. "Welcome to your new home."
Back in their own bed, Jukrit reflected on the week's changes. Seven days ago, they'd been a couple with a homestead. Now they were a family—different sizes, different species, but woven together by choice and care.
"Thank you," he said to Noraxia in the darkness.
"For what?"
"For saying yes to this. To all of it. The house, the farm, the ghevals. This whole impossible life we're building."
She kissed him softly. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be. No one else I'd rather build it with."
Outside, the spring night was alive with cricket song. In the barn, two ghevals slept peacefully. In the house, dragon and squirrel held each other close.
And in the space between one day and the next, their home grew a little bigger, their family a little fuller, their life a little richer.
