come out of your shell

Wayne McCoy · 02-26-2012, 02:34 PM

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This reply suuckss, not in the mood for smoothness or description or anything resembling quality... PP in assuming that she could get the horses in the other pen, hehe +3

In any other situation, the dark she-wolf’s shriek of frustration would have been highly amusing, and Wayne was sure that they would have a nice laugh about this afterward—but right now, he was all business. He yipped loudly for Fern, who obediently cantered to his side—something he didn’t trust any of the other Casa horses to do. Sure enough, one of them was on the side of the fence with the female’s mare, who’d luckily led most of them alongside the paddock as she flirted with the troublemaking stallion—the cause of this nonsense.

Even as he jogged with the giant chestnut draft at his side, he heard the young lady’s question and smirked. “Just do what you’re doin’!” he called. “Lead ’em into the right paddock if ya can. Make sure none of ’em separate from that bunch.” He made it to the gate and threw it open, allowing only Fern to get past; one hand grabbed at her flaxen tail in case she had any ideas about disobeying. “I’ll get the ones headin’ fer the lake, don’t worry.” He shot her an uncharacteristically energetic smile then grabbed for Fern’s withers, dragging herself up and onto her back. With a whoop, they galloped toward the lake.

True to his profession, Wayne knew how to drive cattle and other critters from his parents’ trade. He scanned the tents to make sure that there weren’t any strays harassing the festival-goers, but the only one who had headed that direction was shooed back to the paddock by one of the traders. He reached up to keep his hat from flying off as he urged Fern into a gallop, heading toward the lake as he trusted the woman to get the others back into the corral.

While keeping his balance was a bit of a challenge, he guided Fern excellently to cut off the horses. With barks and quick corrections of direction, he managed to herd them away from the water’s edge. It was only a matter of driving them onward until they saw the others, and group instinct made them perfectly content to join the bulk of the herd inside the gate—the right pen, this time.

It was then that he allowed himself to laugh, his breaths coming somewhat short from the exertion of running. He slipped down off Fern’s back, running his fingers through her lightly perspirating pelt, rubbing her down somewhat even as they reached the dark wolf’s side.

“That was more excitement ’n I was prepared for,” the Labrador mongrel mumbled, keeping a hand on the mare though he trusted her to be obedient from the time they’d spent together. He blinked then, breaking out into a more normal smile and extending his hand. “Pro’ly a good time for introductions now that that’s out of the way. I’m Wayne McCoy, of Casa di Cavalieri.”

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