-Zavien-
The look has his eyebrow raising, but he doesn't change his decision. Beer has always suited him just fine, and if he drinks enough of it, it'll do exactly what the other liquors do and place him firmly on his ass. So he accepts the chilled bottle with a smirk, shrugging a shoulder as if to say, 'Don't judge me.'
Popping open the beer, his lips are on the rim when his eyes roll, a chuckle slipping out. "You can't convince me you're not a good person, Colt. I've got pretty good judgement." He tips the bottle towards her before finally taking a sip, enjoying the refreshing taste of alcohol that washes away a bit of the wear from the day, but it's not enough to make him look any different. There's still a dusty lining to his clothes and a sweaty sheen in his hair. The only change is the subtle redness to his ears that rises with Colt's assessing gaze.
He opens his mouth to correct her, to explain that Zavien doesn't mean his outfit, but he doesn't miss the twitch of her lips or the bit of humor in her eyes. Huffing a breath, he lets it go with an amused smile. "Ex-leader, but thanks."
Grateful for the shift from his appearance, he leaves behind his hat to catch the bag of steaks. They fumble momentarily in his arms, but luckily his beer doesn't spill and by the time he's got them firmly in his grasp, the screen door is already open. He shakes his head of the disorienting whirlwind of activity then follows at her heels like one of the dogs, holding the door open for Sol and the rest.
Zavien waits a moment for her to get situated before setting the steaks in their designated place next to the grill. He'd off to help, but he'd hate to poison her with his cooking and Colt looks to be in about as much need of help as a coyote with a rabbit in its jaw. It's probably best he just stays out of her way.
Laughing, he props his backside against the railing to watch her work. Her question is simple enough, and yet he doesn't have a simple answer, because there's nothing hard about a day like today. So he shrugs his shoulders. "Not knowing what to do afterwards." The admission he makes is light in spite of its uncertainties, lacking stress or anxiety about the matter. It's more blunt honesty that he doesn't shrink from or allow to darken the prospects of a good meal.
He looks out to the ranch accented by starlight, picking out vague black shapes amidst the rolling hills. "How long have you lived here?"
Popping open the beer, his lips are on the rim when his eyes roll, a chuckle slipping out. "You can't convince me you're not a good person, Colt. I've got pretty good judgement." He tips the bottle towards her before finally taking a sip, enjoying the refreshing taste of alcohol that washes away a bit of the wear from the day, but it's not enough to make him look any different. There's still a dusty lining to his clothes and a sweaty sheen in his hair. The only change is the subtle redness to his ears that rises with Colt's assessing gaze.
He opens his mouth to correct her, to explain that Zavien doesn't mean his outfit, but he doesn't miss the twitch of her lips or the bit of humor in her eyes. Huffing a breath, he lets it go with an amused smile. "Ex-leader, but thanks."
Grateful for the shift from his appearance, he leaves behind his hat to catch the bag of steaks. They fumble momentarily in his arms, but luckily his beer doesn't spill and by the time he's got them firmly in his grasp, the screen door is already open. He shakes his head of the disorienting whirlwind of activity then follows at her heels like one of the dogs, holding the door open for Sol and the rest.
Zavien waits a moment for her to get situated before setting the steaks in their designated place next to the grill. He'd off to help, but he'd hate to poison her with his cooking and Colt looks to be in about as much need of help as a coyote with a rabbit in its jaw. It's probably best he just stays out of her way.
Laughing, he props his backside against the railing to watch her work. Her question is simple enough, and yet he doesn't have a simple answer, because there's nothing hard about a day like today. So he shrugs his shoulders. "Not knowing what to do afterwards." The admission he makes is light in spite of its uncertainties, lacking stress or anxiety about the matter. It's more blunt honesty that he doesn't shrink from or allow to darken the prospects of a good meal.
He looks out to the ranch accented by starlight, picking out vague black shapes amidst the rolling hills. "How long have you lived here?"
Life is getting up one more time
than you've been knocked down.
than you've been knocked down.
