Colt
It's boots and chaps
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
The moment feels longer than it is, the risk of it making seconds echo into minutes. It'd take nothing to kiss dirt now, even without the temptation flirting inside Vesper. She could just as easily unbalance herself, overcorrect or be jostle by the uneven terrain at the wrong time. That's the thrill of it though, an edge worth skirting just to taste the possibilities like spindrift. She grins against it, her heart buoyed in her chest, light as a sail.
She comes back down from that high as she leans into his neck, hands tangling amid his mane for that tether of security once more. She leans in, a residual glow of the rush still thick in her voice. "C'mon Ves," she urges, "I know you got more gas in the tank." A challenge for him to run full out, worries of weariness torn away by his breeze, replaced with a dangerous hum of what if. What if he just let go too?
What if they outran the whole desert?
[FIN]
She comes back down from that high as she leans into his neck, hands tangling amid his mane for that tether of security once more. She leans in, a residual glow of the rush still thick in her voice. "C'mon Ves," she urges, "I know you got more gas in the tank." A challenge for him to run full out, worries of weariness torn away by his breeze, replaced with a dangerous hum of what if. What if he just let go too?
What if they outran the whole desert?
[FIN]
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.
