COLT
Cowboys ain't easy to love
And they're harder to hold
And they're harder to hold
It's quiet. Not too quiet, actually. As Colt stands tense, bow and arrow at the ready, head cocked to listen, she does notice something. Bird noise has returned. Squirrels chitter in the distance. Everything small that falls into a hush when a threat is present has revived, and with the recognition of it Colt does too. She exhales heavily, straightened up. She grabs the bridle and swings the quiver and bow on more properly. Takes a minute to pull her boots and socks off to get the mud free this time, since before she'd been in such a rush she hadn't fucking cared. She'd need another bath because of her first bath, though the idea of getting naked and jumping into any water around here any time soon is not on the list.
Alright, time to find out if Beans is still alive.
She is not a hunter, so her tracking skills are limited to what she's practiced when hunting down other loose horses or cattle. Normally then she has a team with her, a mount under her, dogs, and light. Still, she starts with the path she last saw him down, and traces each crescent carved mark of dirk and disturbed or broken plant. She pauses, every so often, to check on the birds and the critters, pressing on until she eventually finds the damn horse there with the doe, with elegant horns ablaze. Colt stiffens, surprised to see the creature. First the tiger, now this. These woods are fucked up with wildlife she wants no part of.
She edges near the trees, trying to approach on the opposite side of beans, where the doe will have all the room of the woods to flee into and not be startled into defensive posturing by the sight of her.
Alright, time to find out if Beans is still alive.
She is not a hunter, so her tracking skills are limited to what she's practiced when hunting down other loose horses or cattle. Normally then she has a team with her, a mount under her, dogs, and light. Still, she starts with the path she last saw him down, and traces each crescent carved mark of dirk and disturbed or broken plant. She pauses, every so often, to check on the birds and the critters, pressing on until she eventually finds the damn horse there with the doe, with elegant horns ablaze. Colt stiffens, surprised to see the creature. First the tiger, now this. These woods are fucked up with wildlife she wants no part of.
She edges near the trees, trying to approach on the opposite side of beans, where the doe will have all the room of the woods to flee into and not be startled into defensive posturing by the sight of her.
They'll never stay home
And they're always alone
And they're always alone
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.
