Closer in to lower ground
Then I spent the mornin' thinkin'
'Bout the ones the wolves pulled down
Word Count → 584 :: Who's late to the party? Raze is late to the party! Where's the party?
Responsibility had been thrust upon the young man’s shoulders, and frankly he didn’t know if he was ready to handle it all. He had done his best to fulfill his duties to the best of his ability and attract more attention to himself—prove that he was more than a cowboy working in the background—but the attention came with trust from the leaders. He was very flattered, and happy to serve the pack he found himself loving so much, but most of his days were filled to the brim with the jobs of caring for the horses and patrolling and keeping up to date on pack life and, now, mentoring.
He was ashamed to say he had done little in the way of mentoring so far, however, and although he was excited in a way to be the first mentor in the history of Casa di Cavalieri, he was also terrified. What if he wasn’t good enough for young Adelle? What if he neglected his other duties or neglected her? What if the others decided he wasn’t doing enough? These fears consumed his thoughts as he performed idle tasks. He could not even escape into oblivion when collecting dried grass for fodder or coiling rope.
Presently, Wayne fought with the newest addition to the group of horses under his and Dixie’s care. While the draft mare did not belong to them in the same way Gypsy and Duke did, it only made him that more adamant to see that she was well taken care of. Despite his feelings about Saul—about Dixie and Saul—he wanted to make sure the man found a very happy mare when he returned. She needed to be broken of her bad-temperedness, too, if she was going to be trusted in Casa di Cavalieri.
The pregnant mare was simply not having it today, however. He asked for her hoof and received it—albeit in a kick that grazed his leg. Scowling, he’d managed to grab her leg and begin to pick out the mud and gravel from the day’s riding around, only for her to force her foot back down and lean dangerously toward the cowboy. He jerked out of range of a bite and glowered, too stressed to deal with her properly.
Maia neighed at him, and Wayne drew himself up. “Like hell,” he growled, and the stare-off did not last long before the burly cowboy dominated. She put her teeth away and snorted, and he reached out to rub her forehead with a gentle but firm hand. “I can’t take care of ya if you’ve got an attitude, crazy woman,” he said in a softer tone of voice.
He was about reach for her leg again when she stiffened suddenly. Setting the hoof pick down, the Tronco looked over his shoulder to see what was bothering the horse. Sure enough, the tall golden shape of the unofficial pack medic came into view, and after staring suspiciously at him for a moment, the mare turned her back on him.
“I’ll come back for you,” Wayne swore darkly before walking casually to where Regner was—likely too casually. He was actually nervous at the sight of the old canine—the grandfather of the pup he was to mentor. If anyone were to disapprove of his teaching, or lack thereof, it would be this undoubtedly experienced man.
“Howdy, Regner,” the dusty-furred man said with a respectful dip of his head despite their rank. “Can I help you with somethin’?”
Wayne by Nat; table code from the Mentors!
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