Bullet in the Barrel

Larkspur D'Angelo · 08-25-2011, 04:42 PM

[html]

pray to your god, open your heart

+5. Evening works great for me! Smile

It had taken the entirety of the day for the horse to become presentable. He had scrubbed her hard with cold water, washing away the filth of the trip, and Rowan had done a fine job with the creature’s mane. Tlanti’s interruption had been brief, and did not hinder his progress. In the latter half of the morning he had sent Rowan to fetch food, and eaten while the mare was kept inside her stall. The fawn was a new surprise, but it had the markings of Salvia’s work all over it and therefore was left untouched.

Once he had eaten, he had moved onto the task of cleaning the animal’s hooves. He had never truly worried about this but made certain to pick away the large chunks of dirt that might cause any injury to the animal. Without shoes, these horses had grown hardy feet that withstood the trials of the wilderness. This one would do fine; she was not as stocky as his own mount, but still larger than the stallion. Her feet were not as dainty as his, but they would adapt. Though he did not polish the hooves, he ensured they were as clean as they could be. Satisfied, he had left the horse inside and gone to retrieve the sheep.

For this task he traveled four-legged, and moved with great ease. He was a creature built for power and distance, though his endurance would pale against a smaller built canine. It was an easy task to herd the sheep, for he simply had to begin pushing the rams towards the barn with several sharp growls and they would go. Animals of habit, the sheep recognized that night meant danger, and so safety and food could be found if they went back to the pen.

He wrangled them in and resumed his two-legged body. A pile of tall grass and berries was tossed into the pen, where the sheep began to eat. It was nearly time to bring the horses in. Larkspur retreated back towards the tack room to begin the process of cleaning saddles when the call came. His ears turned, head following suit, and within an instant his path was redirected. It did not take long to find Sirius, though the man was an earthen shadow against the twilight. Larkspur, his own pelt taking on the deep hues of the falling sun, approached with ease.

In custom, he greeted the Boss by brushing his own massive jaw against the hybrid’s, and dropped his head in a considerable would-be bow. Orange eyes fell to the pouch in the King’s hands, his ears betraying that they had caught the soft noises from within. Today was just full of surprises, it seemed. One massive foot shifted back to allow Larkspur to stand more easily, for he did his best to shrink his body when around the Hunter-King. “Boss,” he greeted, using the formal title. He found it simple, and without flair; this was why he preferred to call Sirius by that name as opposed to “Sire” or “King”.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?