02-17-2012, 03:44 PM
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Wayne was unaware of how his slave-statement had affected the timid wolfdog. He’d heard stories of slavery from old southern hounds, some of which whose lineage could be traced back to human hunting dogs. He was unfamiliar with it in particular, but in general, he knew that Casa di Cavalieri would not tolerate such a thing with their policy of offering a safe haven and defending the defenseless. His own morals opposed it, as he’d been brought up with the ideals that everyone should work for their own ends. He’d toiled under the hot sun to get what needed to be done done; he couldn’t imagine forcing someone else to do it for him, or forcing them to do anything at all.
He did not see the horses as slaves, either. After all, if a friend offered to help him in his duties, he would be thankful. Other luperci might have such violent mastery over the horses that they could force them to do what was required of them—but Wayne, although he was able to wrangle just about any beast and force it into captivity if needed, would not force an animal to do something it didn’t want to. Those animals under his care thought well of him for his gentle hand, and they completed the tasks asked of them because they didn’t mind.
The Labrador mutt yipped teasingly at Bark, who whinnied at him and turned tail suddenly, prancing around the ring on growing legs. Smirking, the cowboy returned his attention to Hadley once more and acknowledged his nod with a kind look. His agreement was not that of a slave beaten into obeying orders, but—to the wolfdog’s eyes, at least—someone who simply was willing to help in an area he cared about.
“D’you know how to ride?” Wayne asked conversationally as he fed the horses. “We could go ridin’ around the territory sometime. I reckon there’re places we ain’t explored yet—even me, though I’ve been here since the pack was founded.” He’d done little more than take care of the horses and shadow Dixie around even then, though he was proud of himself for changing that antisocial image.
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Wayne McCoy
+3
Wayne was unaware of how his slave-statement had affected the timid wolfdog. He’d heard stories of slavery from old southern hounds, some of which whose lineage could be traced back to human hunting dogs. He was unfamiliar with it in particular, but in general, he knew that Casa di Cavalieri would not tolerate such a thing with their policy of offering a safe haven and defending the defenseless. His own morals opposed it, as he’d been brought up with the ideals that everyone should work for their own ends. He’d toiled under the hot sun to get what needed to be done done; he couldn’t imagine forcing someone else to do it for him, or forcing them to do anything at all.
He did not see the horses as slaves, either. After all, if a friend offered to help him in his duties, he would be thankful. Other luperci might have such violent mastery over the horses that they could force them to do what was required of them—but Wayne, although he was able to wrangle just about any beast and force it into captivity if needed, would not force an animal to do something it didn’t want to. Those animals under his care thought well of him for his gentle hand, and they completed the tasks asked of them because they didn’t mind.
The Labrador mutt yipped teasingly at Bark, who whinnied at him and turned tail suddenly, prancing around the ring on growing legs. Smirking, the cowboy returned his attention to Hadley once more and acknowledged his nod with a kind look. His agreement was not that of a slave beaten into obeying orders, but—to the wolfdog’s eyes, at least—someone who simply was willing to help in an area he cared about.
“D’you know how to ride?” Wayne asked conversationally as he fed the horses. “We could go ridin’ around the territory sometime. I reckon there’re places we ain’t explored yet—even me, though I’ve been here since the pack was founded.” He’d done little more than take care of the horses and shadow Dixie around even then, though he was proud of himself for changing that antisocial image.
template by revo. <3
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.WaynecowOutline {background: url('http://i.imgur.com/3n7rz.png') #ca9437 no-repeat top center; width:500px; margin:10px auto; padding:300px 0px 10px 0px; color:#ddd; border: 4px double #000;}
.WaynecowTitle {text-align:right; font-size:50px; margin:5px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000; color:#801d01; font-family: 'Patrick Hand';}
.WaynecowSubTitle {text-align:right;font-size:9px; letter-spacing:3px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:5px 5px 5px 90px; line-height:100%; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000; font-family:georgia;}
.WaynecowInput {padding:10px; margin:10px; border:4px double #000; background:#e0c999; color:#090400; font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; opacity: 0.6; filter: alpha(opacity = 60); line-height:16px; text-align:justify; text-indent:0px;}
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</style>
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