The night had been long and quiet with hours of listening to the soft shift of bodies, the low rumble of cattle settling, and the distant chorus of insects and wind. By the time dawn began to thin the dark, Marcus’ eyes burned and his shoulders felt heavy with it, so he was relieved to pass the torch to Colt. Nothing had gone wrong. The herd was still whole. ”Thanks.” he said simply before he yawned and headed back to finish the night on his bedroll.
Early the next morning, he moved through the gray light to help break camp. Coffee was a small mercy, warming his hands and throat, and he lingered over it only a moment before setting to brushing Taco down and saddle her up.
Marcus mounted. The ache in his bones was deeper today, the kind that sank in and stayed, but he didn’t resent it. He took up his place along the flank, watching for any cow that might drift, any calf that lagged behind. Another day, another stretch of land to cross. He breathed it in, fatigue and all, and rode on with the herd, even as the heat seeped into his bones.
Early the next morning, he moved through the gray light to help break camp. Coffee was a small mercy, warming his hands and throat, and he lingered over it only a moment before setting to brushing Taco down and saddle her up.
Marcus mounted. The ache in his bones was deeper today, the kind that sank in and stayed, but he didn’t resent it. He took up his place along the flank, watching for any cow that might drift, any calf that lagged behind. Another day, another stretch of land to cross. He breathed it in, fatigue and all, and rode on with the herd, even as the heat seeped into his bones.
marcus
a song for a scribbled out name
