02-15-2012, 09:39 PM
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The reek of fear rolled in waves from the tensed wolfdog, and Wayne found himself frustrated and at a loss of what to do once more. He was sure that his girl, sweet and friendly as she was, could comfort whoever she set her mind to; she would do a lot better with Hadley than he, the big intimidating lug, was doing. Physical comfort, a reassuring touch or a hug, would probably only spook the guy more even if the cowboy would do something like that. He had too few words to help, had nothing really other than empty gestures and distraction. He was completely pathetic at this kind of thing, only able to comfort those he was intimate with—but something told him that pulling Hadley close would not be an appropriate idea for either one of the muscular men.
Sighing, he lifted his hat and pushed his fingers through his messy blonde hair once more before frowning at the expression on the scarred fellow’s face. Even Fern, as gentle as she was, might as well not have been standing there.
But finally Hadley mentioned a task—food—and Wayne forced an easygoing smile. “Sure thing,” he said, even though he would have agreed to any task the Prova came up with. He wandered across the corral with a gesture for the man to follow, heading toward where the sacks of gathered grasses and grains were kept. In addition, there were more snacky items, and from that smaller bag he grabbed some leaves.
“Fern likes fern leaves,” he explained, smirking and nodding his head at the large chestnut mare Hadley had been petting. “If you’d like, you can feed ’em by hand—just watch your fingers.” He grabbed a cluster of grasses from the sack, leaning over the fence, then held the meal to the light bay that came near. It would be more relaxing, so long as the horses didn’t start jostling their new temporary caregiver.
He blew playfully at Buckeye’s nose and sent the stallion away so that one of the others could have a turn. With young Bark nibbling at his palm, he glanced quickly at the new Cavalierite and remarked, “I might need your help again sometime, if’n you don’t mind.” He flashed a light grin. “Dixie and I take care of the horses ourselves, mostly, but a helpin’ hand every once in a while would be great.”
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Wayne McCoy
+3
The reek of fear rolled in waves from the tensed wolfdog, and Wayne found himself frustrated and at a loss of what to do once more. He was sure that his girl, sweet and friendly as she was, could comfort whoever she set her mind to; she would do a lot better with Hadley than he, the big intimidating lug, was doing. Physical comfort, a reassuring touch or a hug, would probably only spook the guy more even if the cowboy would do something like that. He had too few words to help, had nothing really other than empty gestures and distraction. He was completely pathetic at this kind of thing, only able to comfort those he was intimate with—but something told him that pulling Hadley close would not be an appropriate idea for either one of the muscular men.
Sighing, he lifted his hat and pushed his fingers through his messy blonde hair once more before frowning at the expression on the scarred fellow’s face. Even Fern, as gentle as she was, might as well not have been standing there.
But finally Hadley mentioned a task—food—and Wayne forced an easygoing smile. “Sure thing,” he said, even though he would have agreed to any task the Prova came up with. He wandered across the corral with a gesture for the man to follow, heading toward where the sacks of gathered grasses and grains were kept. In addition, there were more snacky items, and from that smaller bag he grabbed some leaves.
“Fern likes fern leaves,” he explained, smirking and nodding his head at the large chestnut mare Hadley had been petting. “If you’d like, you can feed ’em by hand—just watch your fingers.” He grabbed a cluster of grasses from the sack, leaning over the fence, then held the meal to the light bay that came near. It would be more relaxing, so long as the horses didn’t start jostling their new temporary caregiver.
He blew playfully at Buckeye’s nose and sent the stallion away so that one of the others could have a turn. With young Bark nibbling at his palm, he glanced quickly at the new Cavalierite and remarked, “I might need your help again sometime, if’n you don’t mind.” He flashed a light grin. “Dixie and I take care of the horses ourselves, mostly, but a helpin’ hand every once in a while would be great.”
template by revo. <3
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.WaynecowTitle {text-align:right; font-size:50px; margin:5px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000; color:#801d01; font-family: 'Patrick Hand';}
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