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
There's no keeping back the dry chuckle that tumbles free in response to him, a wry glance cut his way before the tackroom fully engulfed her. Guess she shouldn't have expected to so easily shame a man, humor or otherwise in it, if he's willing to ask rather than pretend. "That's for the best, don't think ya got the hips for any of my pairs that I could loan you." The amusement of having her own bite tossed back at her remains perched in the set of her lips as she steps back out, tack in hand.
She doesn't speak at first as she goes to set all the rigging on a saddle tree near the stall he's stepped into. She's content to watch how this goes, sure it'll tell her plenty that his words otherwise wouldn't. The side of the stall takes her weight as she leans into it with an ease born of familiarity, one boot crossing over the other while her hands resume their bid for warmth in her jacket pockets. Just her 'brows bounce up, an indicator of how impressed she is that he can tell one end from the other.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she says with a wince in regards to dealing with a pony. "In that case you can probably handle the rank stud colts even." She's only half joking, his skills clearly having gone to rust, but ponies are such opinionated pricks she'd not waste her time on them anymore. Only keeps a couple, same with donkeys, to help get some manners into the babies before the men start working them. They make great babysitters and put up with less bullshit than she does, so anyone she pulls from their side is more than happy to work with her instead.
Her head tilts as he explains, and she nods along like his reasons are ones she can understand, or maybe she's just heard 'em all before. "Always good to have two latches. Never good to learn you have a Tully on your hands by coming to an empty stall time and time again and start going mad with doubt over whether you did actually latch the pen." She smirks though, clearly fond of such escape artists at heart.
There's a subtle shrug to her shoulders as Spud and Damien plod along to the ties. "Only quirk he's got is that he prefers to eat and drink out of red colored buckets. And he likes apples more than carrots. If you're on him though, he'll be good, I wouldn't sell him to ya otherwise."
Waiting for him to finish tacking up, Colt starts to move back towards the barn's entrance once they're ready. "You can help the hands push the doctored cattle in from the arena to the pastures. This group should be about done by now." She gestures towards the way they'd come. "Still using the front pastures until the ground thaws, then we got a big drive to send 'em to the back ones. Rotating lets the ground rest and reset after all their hooves and mouths, and I like 'em close when it's cold, easier to toss them feed and check for sickness that way."
She doesn't speak at first as she goes to set all the rigging on a saddle tree near the stall he's stepped into. She's content to watch how this goes, sure it'll tell her plenty that his words otherwise wouldn't. The side of the stall takes her weight as she leans into it with an ease born of familiarity, one boot crossing over the other while her hands resume their bid for warmth in her jacket pockets. Just her 'brows bounce up, an indicator of how impressed she is that he can tell one end from the other.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she says with a wince in regards to dealing with a pony. "In that case you can probably handle the rank stud colts even." She's only half joking, his skills clearly having gone to rust, but ponies are such opinionated pricks she'd not waste her time on them anymore. Only keeps a couple, same with donkeys, to help get some manners into the babies before the men start working them. They make great babysitters and put up with less bullshit than she does, so anyone she pulls from their side is more than happy to work with her instead.
Her head tilts as he explains, and she nods along like his reasons are ones she can understand, or maybe she's just heard 'em all before. "Always good to have two latches. Never good to learn you have a Tully on your hands by coming to an empty stall time and time again and start going mad with doubt over whether you did actually latch the pen." She smirks though, clearly fond of such escape artists at heart.
There's a subtle shrug to her shoulders as Spud and Damien plod along to the ties. "Only quirk he's got is that he prefers to eat and drink out of red colored buckets. And he likes apples more than carrots. If you're on him though, he'll be good, I wouldn't sell him to ya otherwise."
Waiting for him to finish tacking up, Colt starts to move back towards the barn's entrance once they're ready. "You can help the hands push the doctored cattle in from the arena to the pastures. This group should be about done by now." She gestures towards the way they'd come. "Still using the front pastures until the ground thaws, then we got a big drive to send 'em to the back ones. Rotating lets the ground rest and reset after all their hooves and mouths, and I like 'em close when it's cold, easier to toss them feed and check for sickness that way."
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.
