"Yeah, that intelligence is why I prefer unicorn mules for the logging carts. Stronger, but smart enough to work themselves in and out of the brush without getting caught." Regular horses tended to panic at times, and normal mules, while still passable, weren't as capable. That said, there's a certain quality that's nice to having a stupid animal. Less opinions to argue against in a language neither spoke.
At her query, and ban, he gives a mock-offended scoff, tilting his head toward Goose who’s still whittling the stick down between his teeth like it's an elk leg he's found and treasures. “So dogs are off the table completely?” His tone is playful, but the fondness in his gaze as he watches the dog is unmistakable.
He stretches his arms again, folding them behind his head as he considers her question more seriously than he means to. “I dunno if I’ve got one. Never really thought about it. Not unless I’m allowed to say ‘drunken beaver’ after seeing some of the logging site disasters.” He smirks faintly, then shrugs, water rippling at the movement. “I like bears, I guess. Big, strong, not a lot gets in their way.” Everything he feels like he's not.
“Or birds. They remind me of my mom. They feel...free. Like nothing ever pins them down.” That doesn’t sit quite right, and he shakes his head, water dripping from his hair. “Nah, actually...squirrels.” He glances back over at her with a smile. “They get into everything, always got something to say, make me laugh on the daily. I see them all the time out in the woods.” They're bold despite their size, and he envies them a bit. He tilts his head, squinting at her through the rising steam. “So, what’s that say about me doc?”
At her query, and ban, he gives a mock-offended scoff, tilting his head toward Goose who’s still whittling the stick down between his teeth like it's an elk leg he's found and treasures. “So dogs are off the table completely?” His tone is playful, but the fondness in his gaze as he watches the dog is unmistakable.
He stretches his arms again, folding them behind his head as he considers her question more seriously than he means to. “I dunno if I’ve got one. Never really thought about it. Not unless I’m allowed to say ‘drunken beaver’ after seeing some of the logging site disasters.” He smirks faintly, then shrugs, water rippling at the movement. “I like bears, I guess. Big, strong, not a lot gets in their way.” Everything he feels like he's not.
“Or birds. They remind me of my mom. They feel...free. Like nothing ever pins them down.” That doesn’t sit quite right, and he shakes his head, water dripping from his hair. “Nah, actually...squirrels.” He glances back over at her with a smile. “They get into everything, always got something to say, make me laugh on the daily. I see them all the time out in the woods.” They're bold despite their size, and he envies them a bit. He tilts his head, squinting at her through the rising steam. “So, what’s that say about me doc?”
Iskra
