when the cowboy's away...
#12
Wayne seemed totally unconcerned at the appearance of the massive beast. It was all very well for him. He had nothing to fear with his muscles that bulged from months or years spent working on a ranch, his imposing height, his life of experience and his cowboy wisdom that immediately allowed him to make any animal do whatever the hell he wanted. Sebastian's own particular hobby- painting pictures- suddenly seemed worthless by comparison.

Wayne thumped him on the back, almost sending him stumbling with his broad hand. Still, despite his diminutive size, Sebastian was muscular enough to not disgrace himself by falling over. Even though he did enjoy the friendly touch. Wayne seemed totally content around the creature and even stepped closer to it, urging the Italian to do the same. And offering to help him up.

Ignoring his instincts that were telling him get the fuck away from that thing was difficult. After several moments, Sebastian decided to keep a petrified look on his face and shut his eyes. He took two large steps to stand beside Wayne and stood there, rigid as a statue as he waited for his inevitable death at the the hooves of this beast.


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