When Different Worlds Collide [DND]

Wayne McCoy · 03-02-2012, 08:44 PM

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I was a young troubadour, when I rode in on a song

Word Count :: 419 Didn't see this had been replied to! :o

A smile lightened the alpha’s dark features at the approach of the cowboy, and Wayne chuckled in turn at the other’s remark about the horse. Jazper wasn’t the most passionate about the creatures, though disinterest was fine with the Labrador so long as it didn’t fall into resentment. Not everyone was taken with the magnificent beasts; the old instincts of predator and prey were difficult to suppress for some, and the notion of riding something they might hunt was ridiculous to the more feral. Truly, part of the greyish man’s ease with the equines likely came from his domesticated dog blood, though he didn’t see this as bad.

“Your son has fine taste,” the southern man joked. “Does the stallion have a name?”

The easiness with which he spoke was not characteristic of the reticent wolfdog, but horses were a conversation topic that was sure to draw him out of his shell. He could talk for days about the beasts under his care. He also knew that he needed to prove himself to the yellow-eyed Sole, to show that his presence was more than that of a laborer in the background. It was stepping out of his comfort zone to work so hard at rising from his roots and embrace this change in lifestyle that was a pack, but he knew that it was his time to grow up. He wasn’t a smitten yearling shyly meandering after his crush through the country anymore.

He nodded thoughtfully as he spoke of the horse’s relation to his son’s. If the brown creature was as powerfully built as the paint, both would sire good offspring. Spring would come soon, and thoughts of a herd of foals galloping through the open territory outside the fort filled him with warmth. He just might turn Casa di Cavalieri into a ranch yet, if left unchecked.

“You plan to ride him, work with him?” Wayne asked, his tone falling from amused and easygoing to serious and contemplative. He doubted that Jazper would want a deadweight horse in the pack, and indeed the beast could become unsociable and potentially bored if left completely to its own devices. It would be nice to know what Jazper wanted, so he could help train the creature; who knew what its life had been like before Freetown. His brown eyes turned to his leader as he shifted his weight, still leaning on the fence. In the background, Fern pranced around her growing son and invited him into a game of chase.

I'll be an old troubadour, when I'm gone

Image courtesy of UmbraDeNoapte-Stock

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