wastin' bullets

Wayne McCoy · 04-04-2012, 02:30 PM

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Word Count :: 488 Mrrr. Cait, figured we could use a thread; I was gonna grab your open then Bria stole it. x3 If you don't want one right now, I'll mark this all welcome.

Wayne McCoy was now part of the Mani ranks—just below the leadership in the Casa di Cavalieri hierarchy. Anann had called him to her and requested that he rise to be her Left Hand, the Luna’s Sinistra. He would help council her when it came to the horses and other domestic business, and he would also be granted the privilege of welcoming outsiders into the warrior pack’s ranks. Already he had helped found the pack, made his position as stablemaster official, and become the first Mentor in history—and this honor was the culmination of all that and more.

Needless to say, the cowboy was a little overwhelmed right now.

His callused fingers were not near as dexterous as Dixie-May’s, but the man found weaving to calm him as it had calmed her. Countless times he’d drawn the white sylph close to his body and given her the materials, and she’d worked magic with grass and twine, creating baskets that turned out to have more use than a stress-relieving exercise. Now it seemed only appropriate to try himself, although the first basket was so flimsy and permeable that it wouldn’t even be able to hold feathers. The second was no better, and so he started to wind the twine in different ways.

It was close to a half hour he sat on his bed in his and Dixie’s room, working with his hands and sparing glances at the door. He’d been invited to stay in one of the rooms reserved for the Mani, but he wasn’t sure if Dixie would want to move. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what her opinion would be on most of these things. For seasons they’d been together, and they’d only grown closer through the winter, but spring had arrived, and he couldn’t be sure what he thought about them right now. He loved her, had only loved her, had never rested eyes on anyone else for as long as he could remember. He’d wanted to take her as his mate—but how would it be any different than they were now, and had been for such a long time? Their relationship remained unchanged, but the Labrador had changed; his quick rise through the ranks was proof of that.

He heaved a sigh, knowing he was thinking too much. Only real work really distracted him, but this was one of his bad days when it came to shoulder pain, and he’d be useless with the horses right now.

Wayne frowned suddenly and looked at his creation. He made lousy baskets, but a few loops here and ties here had created a miniature horse. It looked like a child’s drawing come to life rather than anything of skill, but it made him smile faintly. He set it down on the end table beside the bed.

Then he tipped his hat over his face and pretended to sleep, for all the good it did him.

table by raze; code by kitty; image by gogoloopie

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