COLT
If it rains it pours so go pour one strong
When it comes to this life, we only get one
When it comes to this life, we only get one
Between Flora's natural strength and Thorn's magic, they both put Colt to shame as she struggles with a far smaller load of fencing. It's a group effort though, and with all the help on deck, everyone of varying skill sets, they get the panels they need moved over amid some grunts and grimaces. She's front-loading the day with the annoying work, on purpose, hoping by the time noon hits they'll be able to enjoy some lighter tasks.
Flora's question draws her focus from the metal rails she's carting around to the Doubletake, and then again to where her gaze sits. The sight of the unicorns immediately delivers a scowl to her features. "No," she says with a bite that's built on years of frustration. "Wild fuckers always come in close, breaking fences left and right, trying to get to my herd, especially the studs." The beauty and elegance of the wild unicorns is completely lost on her in favor of historic irritations, at least when they're this close to her property. "Dogs'll catch wind and chase 'em off in time." She'd more or less given up on the electric addition to her pasture fences that Sunjata had once offered, figuring there's more politics to it than she first realized, given it'd been more than a year now, plus he's got a lot of needs to consider than just her ranch. Maybe one day she'd get the gods involved, but for now she'll keep up her tried and true battle with nature.
"Alright, good work everyone," she praises with a sigh of relief as she sets her fencing down. She grabs a cup of water, taking five for a minute alongside others as the last of everyone's efforts trickle into a steady pile of gathered fencing. Thorn's screws and hinges will be needed later for the actual gates and chutes the broncos and bulls come out of, but the panels they just lugged fit together like puzzle pieces, with a female end on one side and a male end on the other, attached chains meant to fasten them together. "Now, we need to set up these roughstock panels in a narrow lane leading from this section of the arena to that," she points across the way, "first holding pen over there. This will be how we get the broncs and bulls out of the arena and back into their own stalls."
Setting the cup down, she straightens back up and starts by fastening the first panel to the side of the arena's more permanent fencing, ensuring the gate can still open and close freely. From there, the rest of the panels should flow as efficiently as they can to the pen, ensuring they don't need more supplies than necessary. She does the same on the other side, setting the width of the lane for them all, not wanting it to be wide enough for any beast to turn easily and make a surprise return entrance.
Set up the panels! Thorn's telepathy could still come in handy here.
Flora's question draws her focus from the metal rails she's carting around to the Doubletake, and then again to where her gaze sits. The sight of the unicorns immediately delivers a scowl to her features. "No," she says with a bite that's built on years of frustration. "Wild fuckers always come in close, breaking fences left and right, trying to get to my herd, especially the studs." The beauty and elegance of the wild unicorns is completely lost on her in favor of historic irritations, at least when they're this close to her property. "Dogs'll catch wind and chase 'em off in time." She'd more or less given up on the electric addition to her pasture fences that Sunjata had once offered, figuring there's more politics to it than she first realized, given it'd been more than a year now, plus he's got a lot of needs to consider than just her ranch. Maybe one day she'd get the gods involved, but for now she'll keep up her tried and true battle with nature.
"Alright, good work everyone," she praises with a sigh of relief as she sets her fencing down. She grabs a cup of water, taking five for a minute alongside others as the last of everyone's efforts trickle into a steady pile of gathered fencing. Thorn's screws and hinges will be needed later for the actual gates and chutes the broncos and bulls come out of, but the panels they just lugged fit together like puzzle pieces, with a female end on one side and a male end on the other, attached chains meant to fasten them together. "Now, we need to set up these roughstock panels in a narrow lane leading from this section of the arena to that," she points across the way, "first holding pen over there. This will be how we get the broncs and bulls out of the arena and back into their own stalls."
Setting the cup down, she straightens back up and starts by fastening the first panel to the side of the arena's more permanent fencing, ensuring the gate can still open and close freely. From there, the rest of the panels should flow as efficiently as they can to the pen, ensuring they don't need more supplies than necessary. She does the same on the other side, setting the width of the lane for them all, not wanting it to be wide enough for any beast to turn easily and make a surprise return entrance.
Set up the panels! Thorn's telepathy could still come in handy here.
So I'm dead set on living while I'm still alive
Dead set on living til the day I die
Dead set on living til the day I die
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.
