Colt
It's boots and chaps
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
He has a way of making her feel worthy, when often she's been made to feel anything but, and has spent almost every day trying to prove that she is to anyone and everyone who might look. It's not as much what he says, or what he does, as all the things in-between. Glances that are edged with something she can't name, words that carry more than the apparent meaning, and just his presence.
She damoesn't let herself soften when he seems to tip-toe around the idea of being something either good or lucky, much less both. It does make her wonder again, what company he does keep. A thought for later, another layer of Vesper to attempt to peel back, but for now she's gotta keep her head on straight or she'll be turning her quest into Mort instead of Frey. "You forgot the riding joke," she says too late as the man vanishes into a steed.
He's as breathtaking as ever, and no less powerful for the lack of claws or shadow dogs. The muscles corded beneath thin skin and dark hide are testament to just how much ability he's still got. Her smile leaps up into her eyes as she breathes out at the sight of him, a hand instantly reaching out to sweep lightly across his shoulder. His shape is so familiar her touch coasts casual and practiced, brushing down his back to trace one rabicano line near his flank as she admires the starlit pattern of hair there. "You are something, aren't you," she murmurs quietly to him.
She glances at the offered leg as he shifts beside her and she snorts dismissively at it. Instead, she winds her fingers through his mane and angles beside him for a beat before she springs and swings up. It's not as simple as it appears, but she's capable with the experience of it, even if she grunts with the effort. Her hands splay against his withers between his hairs, steadying her as she finishes hauling her leg over and settling into the space just by his shoulders. "Good thing I left my spurs off today," she muses, one hand falling from his mane to her leg. She looks up at the distance of desert and the challenge before them, breathing in, confident with him here. "Alright, let's not die," she mutters, legs pressing faintly into him as an acknowledgement that's she's ready and he can go.
She damoesn't let herself soften when he seems to tip-toe around the idea of being something either good or lucky, much less both. It does make her wonder again, what company he does keep. A thought for later, another layer of Vesper to attempt to peel back, but for now she's gotta keep her head on straight or she'll be turning her quest into Mort instead of Frey. "You forgot the riding joke," she says too late as the man vanishes into a steed.
He's as breathtaking as ever, and no less powerful for the lack of claws or shadow dogs. The muscles corded beneath thin skin and dark hide are testament to just how much ability he's still got. Her smile leaps up into her eyes as she breathes out at the sight of him, a hand instantly reaching out to sweep lightly across his shoulder. His shape is so familiar her touch coasts casual and practiced, brushing down his back to trace one rabicano line near his flank as she admires the starlit pattern of hair there. "You are something, aren't you," she murmurs quietly to him.
She glances at the offered leg as he shifts beside her and she snorts dismissively at it. Instead, she winds her fingers through his mane and angles beside him for a beat before she springs and swings up. It's not as simple as it appears, but she's capable with the experience of it, even if she grunts with the effort. Her hands splay against his withers between his hairs, steadying her as she finishes hauling her leg over and settling into the space just by his shoulders. "Good thing I left my spurs off today," she muses, one hand falling from his mane to her leg. She looks up at the distance of desert and the challenge before them, breathing in, confident with him here. "Alright, let's not die," she mutters, legs pressing faintly into him as an acknowledgement that's she's ready and he can go.
It's the ropes and the reins
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing rodeo
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing rodeo
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
