The timber wolf introduced himself, and Wayne nodded in acknowledgment, leaning on the horse for a moment. He grinned slightly as the other remarked on the name and shrugged. “All of our names suit us somehow. You look like a Rivers Skyward.” He wasn’t quite sure how, although the words river and sky reminded him of the greys in his coat. The rest of him seemed to fit the picture as well, with the dangling braid and the piercings in his brow and ear. He wasn’t really a country boy proper, but Wayne had hung out with “prettier” characters before; Sebastian came to mind. The voice was what marked him as a southerner, though, and he enjoyed hearing the familiar drawl. Other than Dixie-May, he hadn’t thought there would be something here to remind him of his Texan home.
He smirked when the other spoke of his scent, and shrugged. “I guess I’m sensitive to that sorta thing? You’d think my pa was a hound dog rather ’n a Lab. But pack smells rub off on ya when you’re hangin’ out with your pals, too.” He knew he smelled like an equal blend of Casa canines and horses, along with whatever his personal scent was. It wasn’t as easy to know what he smelled like, although he had Dixie’s scent memorized.
The mongrel nodded in understanding. “I guess you wouldn’t know if you were young, but… Why’d your folks move?” He reached back to scratch the nape of his neck and added, “Me ’n’ a friend came from Texas, personally. She wantd t’ travel, explore around a bit, an’ I didn’t want her goin’ alone.” He was a little sheepish discussing the Samoyed girl with a stranger, but she was as much a part of him as horses were. He’d likely live and die driving cattle and ranching with his parents had he not met her.
Rivers’ mismatched eyes flicked to the stallion, and Wayne patted the creature on the shoulder. “Buckeye,” he introduced. “He’s one of the communal horses in the pack. It’s my job t’ make sure they’re all taken care of, though, and I’d like no job better.” He almost wished that he’d been able to show off one of his mares—whom he truly owned—but he was just as proud of the pale bay as he would be of Fern. They’d all become friends over the months.
Image courtesy of UmbraDeNoapte-Stock
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