Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy
"Ain't supposed to." Morgen says by way of agreement as he pats the colt's wither. "This'un's got quite the independent streak though. Reckon he thought he could slip away without my noticin'." The way Morgen's lips curl into a lopsided smile suggests strongly that he doesn't fault the youngster for trying.
Loosening off the rope completely, the man glances over his shoulder to where the mare patiently stands. Her ears have perked forward at the compliment, and it's with quietly intelligent eyes that she watches Isla. "Sure is, and she fuckin' knows it too." Starting slightly, Morgen offers Isla a rather sheepish smile. "Apologies for my language."
Placing the tips of his glove between his teeth, Morgen tugs it off before extending a calloused and rough hand in the Remedy's direction. "Name's Morgen Walker." He says around the leather.
Loosening off the rope completely, the man glances over his shoulder to where the mare patiently stands. Her ears have perked forward at the compliment, and it's with quietly intelligent eyes that she watches Isla. "Sure is, and she fuckin' knows it too." Starting slightly, Morgen offers Isla a rather sheepish smile. "Apologies for my language."
Placing the tips of his glove between his teeth, Morgen tugs it off before extending a calloused and rough hand in the Remedy's direction. "Name's Morgen Walker." He says around the leather.
