07-28-2011, 05:38 PM
2+
The man slapped his forehead with a shake of his head as he realised he had held out a full sized pitch fork to the young girl. The pained man grinned sheepishly at her for his mistake and took back the huge pitchfork, it was specially made for him to use by his own hands. He turned from the woman to be and placed his fork against the wall, and began rummaging around in a pile in the corner for a minute or so until with an exclamation of spanish he pulled out a more normal sized one, it would be small enough for the white female to use rather than his too large one. He smiled at her question, and as the foal appeared to laugh at her,
"Mucking out is where you clean out the dirt and mess the horses leave behind. It can be hard work sometimes so if you are having troubles just be letting me know." He gestured for her to follow him deeper into the stables and stopped by a stall he had not yet mucked out. With a father's extensive patience the man showed her how to collect the horse's droppings and dirty hay with the fork and deposit it in wheelbarrow that was nearby already containing some fecal matter, more than likely the work would strain her muscles that were not used to being used but it was all good and would help her to build them up. The smell of it did not bother him in the slightest for it was one he had grown up with and reminded him fondly of his Ma and Da.
He left the ivory girl to herself so she could get started and walked even further into the stables to grab hold of a large sack of feed that needed moving closer to the front, the bag probably weighed about half of his own weight and would have dwarfed the young female working with him, with some amount of effort, a lot of grunting and a few more torn open wounds the man managed to shift the huge sack to where he wanted it.
The man slapped his forehead with a shake of his head as he realised he had held out a full sized pitch fork to the young girl. The pained man grinned sheepishly at her for his mistake and took back the huge pitchfork, it was specially made for him to use by his own hands. He turned from the woman to be and placed his fork against the wall, and began rummaging around in a pile in the corner for a minute or so until with an exclamation of spanish he pulled out a more normal sized one, it would be small enough for the white female to use rather than his too large one. He smiled at her question, and as the foal appeared to laugh at her,
"Mucking out is where you clean out the dirt and mess the horses leave behind. It can be hard work sometimes so if you are having troubles just be letting me know." He gestured for her to follow him deeper into the stables and stopped by a stall he had not yet mucked out. With a father's extensive patience the man showed her how to collect the horse's droppings and dirty hay with the fork and deposit it in wheelbarrow that was nearby already containing some fecal matter, more than likely the work would strain her muscles that were not used to being used but it was all good and would help her to build them up. The smell of it did not bother him in the slightest for it was one he had grown up with and reminded him fondly of his Ma and Da.
He left the ivory girl to herself so she could get started and walked even further into the stables to grab hold of a large sack of feed that needed moving closer to the front, the bag probably weighed about half of his own weight and would have dwarfed the young female working with him, with some amount of effort, a lot of grunting and a few more torn open wounds the man managed to shift the huge sack to where he wanted it.