Houm

Houm, the Mountain Horse That Does Not Change Mountains

The men of the valleys say "oom," and something is already lost. The name is pronounced the dwarven way, "rrrhoum," rolled deep in the throat, because that is exactly the sound of the beast: a low, steady breath the herd pushes out as it walks, heard long before anything is seen. Where the lowlands have horses, the mountain has the houm.

Temperament

Its wild instinct never goes out. You must be a master handler, or have opened a magical bond with it, even to consider moving it to another mountain, and its unease will still be yours to manage. That is why it makes such an admirable relay along a single range: it is at home there, it knows the passes as well as it knows the dangers. A saying puts it better than any treatise:
Where a houm avoids the trail, follow it or die.

Handling him

The hard part is not mastering the beast, it is knowing what to do with it. If you want a permanent mount, you take on an animal far from home, and its nervousness will come back every day. It needs steady high ground under its hooves and a return to its own mountain at least once a year; without that you do not have a companion, you have a prisoner.

Rewards

Always carry berries or dried herbs from its home mountain. This is not a treat, it is a remedy. A handful under the nose and the beast that refused to move comes loose. It eats, it breathes, it goes on. Lay in the supply before you go down, never after. The day the bag is empty, you will remember this.

At the table

It grew up in the silence of the heights, so the smallest sharp noise goes straight through it: a door slamming, a shout, and it has backed away before you understand why. Otherwise it is as affectionate and as attentive as a good horse, no more and no less than its training was worth. And when it finally settles, it stands exactly where it stopped, head turned toward the ridge you came from, breathing softly into the cold.