COLT
Got a head full of noise
About a hundred different things I'm tryna avoid
I got a mind in the gutter
Got trouble on one hand, a beer in the other
About a hundred different things I'm tryna avoid
I got a mind in the gutter
Got trouble on one hand, a beer in the other
Her smile is easy to come by when she's in the mood, because as rough and serious as life can be, Colt firmly believes in enjoying all it has to offer too. Maybe she's not the find the silver lining sort, a cloud's just a cloud in the end, but she can enjoy rainy days and sunny ones all the same, with or without clouds and whatever colors their edges might be. Appreciating her work is one easy way to guarantee her sunshine, as long as she's not already in a storm, or the pleasantry is so obviously fake she'll keep a frown on out of spite. His interest seems genuine, and the work behind her is going smooth, so the upward turn of her lips has lingered. "Not if you do it right," she corrects him with a pointed look, one that speaks to not doing dumb shit out here. This work has a way of punishing anyone who doesn't pay attention, so you either learn to listen up or you get gone with a bout of bruises, pride usually among them.
She only glances back once on their way to the barn, not about to make the trip all the way up there just for herself. It's a quick flash of her gaze past her shoulder, finding he has the sense to not only follow, but keep up. Well, best as he could manage on unfamiliar ground and with the weight of a payment owed.
A smile cracks back into place as he sets the coin down and reassures her. "Appreciate the business honey," she says with a nod, attention coasting over the sacks. She'll check it soon enough, not overly worried about having to chasing down a bad deal - it wouldn't be the first time, and she's sure it wouldn't be the last. Now that she runs the ranch instead of her father, there's been a few occassions where people think some tits make it easier to pull a fast one on her. She isn't afraid to school more than horses when the need arises.
Her 'brows rise with the question, an honest laugh startling free. She's not used to helping her orders step into the saddle. "Guess that all depends. I prefer mares, they got more heart at the end of the day in my experience, but they got more opinions too. Sometimes ya'll won't agree, and however long you've been together, she's gonna think she's right nine times outta ten. Sometimes that'll be what saves your ass." Affection bleeds into her words as her gaze travels from Damien to Blueberry, the mare having since retreated back into the stall since neither of them had anything interesting to offer her. "Plus, I'm partial to greys." She doesn't have a strict color chart ranking, and only seems to think some matter for personality, an old call back to lineage maybe, or just the way she feels when she looks at 'em. Paints and appaloosas are on the bottom of that list though, and she's got a theory that their coat color is as splotchy as their brain network.
"Geldings on the other hand...they'll listen to you, for better or worse. If you don't know what you're doing, you're gonna fuck 'em up, and you might hurt their feelings along the way. If you just wanna get on and go, you better know where or you'll both end up lost, at least until feeding time, they'll all bring you home then." Spud's head has remained out, reaching with an extension of his neck and a lip towards Damien's jacket sleeve. Overall, she shrugs, like in the end it doesn't really matter. "Then again, they're all their own beast. I've had geldings smarter than me and mares lazier than shit."
Her jaw works a bit over his last request though, a long suffering sigh whistling from her nose. "Sure, and next shall I arrange some lessons in the arena for you? Fit you for some pants and boots while we're at it?" She's already hauling open a tack room door though, stepping into it briefly before reppearing with a bridle and saddle in her arms, a blanket tossed over her shoulder. "You do know how to groom one, right?" and under her breath she mutters something about greenhorns.
She only glances back once on their way to the barn, not about to make the trip all the way up there just for herself. It's a quick flash of her gaze past her shoulder, finding he has the sense to not only follow, but keep up. Well, best as he could manage on unfamiliar ground and with the weight of a payment owed.
A smile cracks back into place as he sets the coin down and reassures her. "Appreciate the business honey," she says with a nod, attention coasting over the sacks. She'll check it soon enough, not overly worried about having to chasing down a bad deal - it wouldn't be the first time, and she's sure it wouldn't be the last. Now that she runs the ranch instead of her father, there's been a few occassions where people think some tits make it easier to pull a fast one on her. She isn't afraid to school more than horses when the need arises.
Her 'brows rise with the question, an honest laugh startling free. She's not used to helping her orders step into the saddle. "Guess that all depends. I prefer mares, they got more heart at the end of the day in my experience, but they got more opinions too. Sometimes ya'll won't agree, and however long you've been together, she's gonna think she's right nine times outta ten. Sometimes that'll be what saves your ass." Affection bleeds into her words as her gaze travels from Damien to Blueberry, the mare having since retreated back into the stall since neither of them had anything interesting to offer her. "Plus, I'm partial to greys." She doesn't have a strict color chart ranking, and only seems to think some matter for personality, an old call back to lineage maybe, or just the way she feels when she looks at 'em. Paints and appaloosas are on the bottom of that list though, and she's got a theory that their coat color is as splotchy as their brain network.
"Geldings on the other hand...they'll listen to you, for better or worse. If you don't know what you're doing, you're gonna fuck 'em up, and you might hurt their feelings along the way. If you just wanna get on and go, you better know where or you'll both end up lost, at least until feeding time, they'll all bring you home then." Spud's head has remained out, reaching with an extension of his neck and a lip towards Damien's jacket sleeve. Overall, she shrugs, like in the end it doesn't really matter. "Then again, they're all their own beast. I've had geldings smarter than me and mares lazier than shit."
Her jaw works a bit over his last request though, a long suffering sigh whistling from her nose. "Sure, and next shall I arrange some lessons in the arena for you? Fit you for some pants and boots while we're at it?" She's already hauling open a tack room door though, stepping into it briefly before reppearing with a bridle and saddle in her arms, a blanket tossed over her shoulder. "You do know how to groom one, right?" and under her breath she mutters something about greenhorns.
Got the wind in my hair
I got nowhere to go so I'm already there
Can't say I would and I can't say I wouldn't
If I don't come back, don't come lookin'
I got nowhere to go so I'm already there
Can't say I would and I can't say I wouldn't
If I don't come back, don't come lookin'
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.
