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
Hawthorn will find that his sweeping is repeatedly interrupted by a duo of red heelers, Dust and Devil, who's life work is dedicated to keeping the brooms of the ranch in their place. The two dogs had been patiently lounging nearby the tools, but are activated the moment everyone strides over to work, eagerly popping up to their paws and darting past with glancing nips and growls at the bristles. Once Thorn really gets into using the broom, they latch on every so often, tugging opposite Thorn's grip. They're chased off easy enough, indecisive about which broom to be herding at any given moment, so they ping pong between everyone. Despite this handicap, Thorn's elbow grease makes a dent in the dirt and debris.
Flora's scrubbing goes much smoother in comparison, but she'll repeatedly find a ball-obsessed kelpie dunking her ball in Flora's water, along with her front feet. This gets the bucket dirty rather quickly, requiring numerous changes to be worthwhile to the cleaning effort, or a creative distraction for the pup. Bit by bit, the grime gives way to her efforts.
Colt works to sweep up in-between the seats, driving random litter and debris into piles with her broom and dustpan, which is also plagued by Dust and Devil every so often. Not only do they tug at her broom when she's finally let her guard down, but they blow past her piles, upsetting some of the work. She stomps after them with a garbled string of curses and gutteral noises, striving to smack them across the ass with her dustpan so they might pick an easier target than her. "Mm, oh yeah," she says back to Flora. "Well, I mean, it was the first one I'd run so hard to say I guess. It seemed plenty full though. Hopefully this year is no different." She'd not originally planned to run one again this year, not certain she wanted to commit to an annual event that requires so much prep and time, but enough remarks had come her way that she couldn't deny the interest. That, and more than ever before, she needs a place to put herself to work wholly and completely. The busier she stays, the less her mind strays. "You gotta come this year, see what all your labor was for. Bound to be entertaining, though you should consider riding." she glances over at Flora, offering a fleeting smile, the slope chased away by the dog whirlwind.
As the bleachers start to look presentable once more under everyone's efforts, Colt stands back to admire them. Dusting her hands on each other, then wiping down her pants, dust flying free as she does, she nods at their work. "Think that's exactly the TLC they needed. Don't lease steam now, we got the vendor alley to set up for all the food and shop stalls! Leave your cleaning shit there in a pile and follow me." Leaning her broom and dustpan on the edge of the bleacher bottom row, she steps down behind them to the lane where sizable tents await assembly. "Frames, covers, or signs, pick your favorite."
Finish your bleacher cleaning around the dog hazards then head to start setting up the vendor tents. You can select your role.
1. Put together the poles and overall tent frame
2. Fit the tent material over the frame
3. Hang the signs on all the sides of the tent to advertise the stall
Flora's scrubbing goes much smoother in comparison, but she'll repeatedly find a ball-obsessed kelpie dunking her ball in Flora's water, along with her front feet. This gets the bucket dirty rather quickly, requiring numerous changes to be worthwhile to the cleaning effort, or a creative distraction for the pup. Bit by bit, the grime gives way to her efforts.
Colt works to sweep up in-between the seats, driving random litter and debris into piles with her broom and dustpan, which is also plagued by Dust and Devil every so often. Not only do they tug at her broom when she's finally let her guard down, but they blow past her piles, upsetting some of the work. She stomps after them with a garbled string of curses and gutteral noises, striving to smack them across the ass with her dustpan so they might pick an easier target than her. "Mm, oh yeah," she says back to Flora. "Well, I mean, it was the first one I'd run so hard to say I guess. It seemed plenty full though. Hopefully this year is no different." She'd not originally planned to run one again this year, not certain she wanted to commit to an annual event that requires so much prep and time, but enough remarks had come her way that she couldn't deny the interest. That, and more than ever before, she needs a place to put herself to work wholly and completely. The busier she stays, the less her mind strays. "You gotta come this year, see what all your labor was for. Bound to be entertaining, though you should consider riding." she glances over at Flora, offering a fleeting smile, the slope chased away by the dog whirlwind.
As the bleachers start to look presentable once more under everyone's efforts, Colt stands back to admire them. Dusting her hands on each other, then wiping down her pants, dust flying free as she does, she nods at their work. "Think that's exactly the TLC they needed. Don't lease steam now, we got the vendor alley to set up for all the food and shop stalls! Leave your cleaning shit there in a pile and follow me." Leaning her broom and dustpan on the edge of the bleacher bottom row, she steps down behind them to the lane where sizable tents await assembly. "Frames, covers, or signs, pick your favorite."
Finish your bleacher cleaning around the dog hazards then head to start setting up the vendor tents. You can select your role.
1. Put together the poles and overall tent frame
2. Fit the tent material over the frame
3. Hang the signs on all the sides of the tent to advertise the stall
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.
