might wanna skip to the last paragraph. /460
The young male was sitting on a bale of hay, just outside the stables. His bow was resting on one knee, his daughter on another. Nate, his son, was off playing who knew where, but he figured Payne was more easy going and willing to stay around her parents. Frodo scratched her behind the ear gently before reaching for his oiling cloth once again, and he stroked it down the bow, dragging it up and down in quick, swift motions. He oiled it until it shone, and then shouldered his bow so that it nestled beside his quiver.
Frodo put his cleaning tools away and straightened up, balancing Payne on his hip. She gave a startled squeak but soon got comfortable again. The black and ginger furred male hurried back into the stables and opened up the barn door with his free hand, scooting inside to be immediately flushed with the potent stench of horses and dung. It was a familiar scent, one that he loved. The horses were familiar with him, too, and they nickered softly as he passed, passed right to the end stall where his own horse was. Striper. Payne greeted Strider, her paws scratching in an attempt to go and see him. Frodo set his daughter down and opened up the door, and she ran up to the horse, licking and sniffing. The father figured she'd be a fine horsewoman when she came of age. She seemed to have an interest in horses that his son did not.
Strider didn't seem to mind the attention, and gently lipped at the pup at his hooves. Frodo grinned and led the horse out of the stables, Payne following close behind on wobbly paws. He didn't need reins to guide the horse, only his voice, and his hands; just under the horses head. The walked a little way into the village when Frodo heard a summoning call, one he was not familiar with. The two year old had lived half of his life in the pack, and knew everyone in it (although there were a few new members he had yet to meet), so this came as a surprise to him. Knowing that as a skilled hunter, he could accept joiners, he shrugged to himself and walked in the direction of the sound.
Payne was lagging behind, so he'd picked her up again by the time they arrived to see a woman and her horse. Frodo pulled his cloak around him stiffly, ran a hand through his braided and feather-coated ginger locks, and let his features fall into a friendly, modest grin. 'Lo there. he greeted. Yer lookin' very bubbly-makin' today, eh jeeves, what is it yer wantin' here? it was courteous to ask, although he could easily guess.
<style type="text/css">
.frodo2cai b {font-weight:bold; color:#e8dc95; text-shadow:#1b190c 1px 1px 2px;}
.frodo2cai p {padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:0px;}
.frodo2cai {margin:0px auto; width:520px; background-color:#a0965d; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/NAi9W.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #281f0a; padding:220px 0px 5px 0px; font-family:georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#ebe7cf; line-height:16px; text-align:justify; border-radius:10px;}
.frodo2cai .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px; text-align:center;}
.frodo2cai p b:before { content: open-quote; }
.frodo2cai p b:after {content: close-quote; }
</style>
[/html]