MORGEN
Come down from your fences
Though Morgan’s voice had been stern, the expression on his face was defiantly gentle. “Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for.” He replied, voice rough but not unkind. Tugging at the brim of his hat in proper greeting now that the youngsters had found some other fuckery to draw their attention, the wrangler slid one leg over the back of his saddle, dismounting with the sort of ease that spoke of many long years in the saddle.
“Name’s Morgen.” The man mumbled as he turned, loosening the reins and giving his mare a pat on the shoulder. Placing the finger of one gloved hand into his mouth, he bit down and pulled, removing the glove before offering it out to Sohalia.
“Y’lost or just makin’ yer way through?” Though Morgan’s accent was rough around the edges just as he was, there was nothing unintelligent in his tone nor the spark in his denim-blue stare.
“Name’s Morgen.” The man mumbled as he turned, loosening the reins and giving his mare a pat on the shoulder. Placing the finger of one gloved hand into his mouth, he bit down and pulled, removing the glove before offering it out to Sohalia.
“Y’lost or just makin’ yer way through?” Though Morgan’s accent was rough around the edges just as he was, there was nothing unintelligent in his tone nor the spark in his denim-blue stare.
open the gate
