Colt
A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun
Can't trust anyone
Can't trust anyone
The smile that gentles Colt’s features is built from countless times she’s reassured someone into a saddle. More times than she’d like, to be honest, but old irritations over that have since died out, replaced with the quiet patience of waiting for someone to become brave. She does not have to wait long with Jesse.
”Excellent job,” she praises once they get situated, glancing back over her shoulder with a twist, murmuring softly to the horse as she shifts to accommodate the new weight. This is Biscuit,” she informs with a pat to the mare’s neck, flopping her mane back and forth in rough affection. ”She’s one of my favorites.””
Pressing her calves in on the side of the horse, the mare moves out into a walk, not quick, but not the slow plod of an animal dragging out an undesirable task. ”Hang on,” Colt warns as those first strides are taken. ”You can grab around my waist, it’s usually easiest, or the edges of the saddle.” It’s startling, how this too, manages to flash a silver memory behind her eyes. A first meeting, the initial brush that left more heat than wanted, and a curious tether unspooling into the dark.
She blinks and it’s gone, no better than mist burning under the morning. A swift shape races from the brush at their side, Biscuit’s ears twisting and head lifting faintly as Smooches ricochets around the trail with them. ”Ah, he’s back, guess he got tired of losing the squirrel race.”
”Excellent job,” she praises once they get situated, glancing back over her shoulder with a twist, murmuring softly to the horse as she shifts to accommodate the new weight. This is Biscuit,” she informs with a pat to the mare’s neck, flopping her mane back and forth in rough affection. ”She’s one of my favorites.””
Pressing her calves in on the side of the horse, the mare moves out into a walk, not quick, but not the slow plod of an animal dragging out an undesirable task. ”Hang on,” Colt warns as those first strides are taken. ”You can grab around my waist, it’s usually easiest, or the edges of the saddle.” It’s startling, how this too, manages to flash a silver memory behind her eyes. A first meeting, the initial brush that left more heat than wanted, and a curious tether unspooling into the dark.
She blinks and it’s gone, no better than mist burning under the morning. A swift shape races from the brush at their side, Biscuit’s ears twisting and head lifting faintly as Smooches ricochets around the trail with them. ”Ah, he’s back, guess he got tired of losing the squirrel race.”
I was so sure what I needed was more
Tried to shoot out the sun
Tried to shoot out the sun
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.
