Is this where it mends or it breaks - between a rock and a hard place
Colt hears it as it lands, like something trying to pass as solid instead ringing hollow when it hits an unexpected angle and hums too loud with the space it’s pretending isn’t there. Colt glances back at Jesse properly, having started to walk towards their horses, and cocks a brow up in quiet challenge. One that isn’t needed, as Jesse seems to hear it too.
”Ahh,” she says with the simplicity of knowing as Jesse goes on to explain. Colt slips between the two horses, backing hers up with a soft cluck and pressure at the front to give Jesse proper room to meet hers. The horse is reluctant at first, still lazily dozing, but heeds with a slowness that borders on aggravating.
Fortunately, Colt is distracted by what more Jesse has to say, and she is here to take her time with this land, not gallop out of it. ”For me, it’s always been this.” Colt’s palm slaps on the saddle of her horse, her other arm with the reins slung over the horse’s neck, elbow hooking around the other side of the leather. She leans in a bit, the horse bearing the new weight, and smiles over at Jesse. ”Come try it,” she beckons.
”Probably won’t be the same for you… not exactly. But, to me, home is something that feels like you can fully be yourself. Even the worst parts of you.” Her horses have seen those days among her best ones too. Days when she loses her temper, her patience, her sense. When she’s too hard or too ungrateful. They remind her then, too, to stop. ”Can’t really live in a saddle though, or at least not forever. Not comfortably.” She laughs a little. ”Frey knows, I’ve tried.” Weeks she’d stay away from her house, from her husband.
”Honestly, I’m looking for it too,” she sighs a bit wistfully then. Evidence perhaps, that she doesn’t have all the answers, even when she tries to pretend she does. ”I’m hoping I can make it again, the four-walls version, in Hak Etme. Or something close enough that I feel the ache inside my chest improve.”
”Ahh,” she says with the simplicity of knowing as Jesse goes on to explain. Colt slips between the two horses, backing hers up with a soft cluck and pressure at the front to give Jesse proper room to meet hers. The horse is reluctant at first, still lazily dozing, but heeds with a slowness that borders on aggravating.
Fortunately, Colt is distracted by what more Jesse has to say, and she is here to take her time with this land, not gallop out of it. ”For me, it’s always been this.” Colt’s palm slaps on the saddle of her horse, her other arm with the reins slung over the horse’s neck, elbow hooking around the other side of the leather. She leans in a bit, the horse bearing the new weight, and smiles over at Jesse. ”Come try it,” she beckons.
”Probably won’t be the same for you… not exactly. But, to me, home is something that feels like you can fully be yourself. Even the worst parts of you.” Her horses have seen those days among her best ones too. Days when she loses her temper, her patience, her sense. When she’s too hard or too ungrateful. They remind her then, too, to stop. ”Can’t really live in a saddle though, or at least not forever. Not comfortably.” She laughs a little. ”Frey knows, I’ve tried.” Weeks she’d stay away from her house, from her husband.
”Honestly, I’m looking for it too,” she sighs a bit wistfully then. Evidence perhaps, that she doesn’t have all the answers, even when she tries to pretend she does. ”I’m hoping I can make it again, the four-walls version, in Hak Etme. Or something close enough that I feel the ache inside my chest improve.”
Colt
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.
