Colt
It's boots and chaps
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
They should rest, again, she thinks as they trudge. As before, as every time they have tried, this place offers no good sanctity for respite. The idea of setting down on the hardened shell of salt leaves her skin crawling, and absently she itches at one arm that prickles against the dried—wetted—then re-dried sweat that coats it. Still, her lips are chapped, and her throat feels raw against the arid heat she's breathed in from sunup to sundown. The addition of salt particles to that inhalation is the opposite of help.
She won't tell him though, too proud to be the first to admit it, especially when he's the one struggling the most. She could drink, but won't when he can't, likely would be bucked off if she tried anyway. There's not much left anyway, water. She had packed light to keep them light, and hadn't really thought they'd have to press so deep in the desert to taunt the Family's pets to give chase.
So instead she sighs, long and low, stubborn and irritable.
She pulls her fingers gently through his mane, still holding, but curling, tracing, something to ground her and keep her mind focused on something other than how shitty it all is. Worst road trip ever in all ways but one. "I'm glad you're with me, Ves," she admits softly to him, and it doesn't mean anything more than that. His company, though muted in a sense in this form, is always welcome.
She won't tell him though, too proud to be the first to admit it, especially when he's the one struggling the most. She could drink, but won't when he can't, likely would be bucked off if she tried anyway. There's not much left anyway, water. She had packed light to keep them light, and hadn't really thought they'd have to press so deep in the desert to taunt the Family's pets to give chase.
So instead she sighs, long and low, stubborn and irritable.
She pulls her fingers gently through his mane, still holding, but curling, tracing, something to ground her and keep her mind focused on something other than how shitty it all is. Worst road trip ever in all ways but one. "I'm glad you're with me, Ves," she admits softly to him, and it doesn't mean anything more than that. His company, though muted in a sense in this form, is always welcome.
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.
