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You know what's real strange to get used to as a girl than a fella?

(No, not that, though Jack couldn't admit in all honesty that he ain't a mite curious.)

Riding. Riding is all kinds of weird, right now. She's got Duncan out, and normally he can control the big horse just fine, but she has got a whole lot less sheer muscle strength to work with, and it takes some getting used to.

It's fun, though, and with a wild whoop, she sends the big brown horse thundering along the meadow paths, by the lake, long hair tossing in the breeze under the gleaming white hat Bar so generously gave her.

Riding ain't all she's got to practice, and she can be found, once Duncan is cooled down and groomed and given a scoop of grain to nibble at, outside by the wide-flung doors of the barn, lariat in hand, roping hay bales.

Just 'cause she's a lady at the moment and mostly out of the rodeo as a man doesn't mean she can't get some practice in, understand.

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He neighs in agreement and tries to not catch any of her hair and ends up dancing around a little as the wind moves it.

That shouldn't surprise him but he'd forgotten that he's more aware of the world as a horse.

"Oh, hey."

She slaps the hat back down on her head, holds out a reassuring hand.

"Sorry bout that, bud. Kinda skittish, aren'tcha?"

Fair enough. Seems everybody's a little on edge, what with all the changes going on around them right now.

Once its clear nothing else is going to happen, he comes forward again, pawing the ground a little.

He didn't mean to look so foolish, but being a horse is different.

Jack reaches a little further, pats a friendly hand on the horse's long neck, like he'd pat a man's shoulder.

"No need to be embarrassed, friend. This stuff damn near scares me, too. It's nice enough, I guess, but I'll be happy to get my own hair back."

He neighs and shakes his head in a way that's meant to show that he's not always like this.

It's hard to get the gesture right as a horse but the patting feels nice and he tries to nudge her to show he understands.

Her grin flashes bright and wide at the way the colt shakes his head, a heavy, awkward motion.

"Guess you wasn't always a horse, huh? Sure bet that takes some gettin used to."

When she understands he neighs happily trying to explain though he has been a horse before, it was a year ago and he'd forgotten a lot of things about it.

The worst bit is how he gets skittish when he doesn't mean to, because he knows how to have a cool head.

"Had plenty a conversations with horses before, but I gotta say, this is the first time one talked back," she laughs.

"You havin fun?"

He neighs and trots around her, there's a lot of space here and he's been having fun.

Her hands drop to her hips and she watches, fairly well impressed -- ain't like she would be doing all that well tryin to manage four legs all at once. Probably end up in a pile at the edge of the field and embarrass herself.

"Ain't much of the quiet type, myself," she tells the horse, conversational, winding up the rope into a wide loop in one hand. "Had the option a bein a horse, figured I'd drive myself and everybody about me nuts with tryin to talk. It's like ridin a bike, gotta just keep on goin, and I sorta have the tendency to run on. Still, I imagine the place'd be a whole lot more peaceful."

The rope hangs in neat loops from one hand, and she shoulders it, waving at the horse. "Go on, then. Bet you got better'n a trot, now you've got your bearings."

Well, he has had most of the day to practice and remember from the last time he did this. He whinnies as she talks, he knows people like that, he tends to be quiet like his Pa.

When she wants him to show off, he rears up a little before first trotting around the paddock, then cantering around the hay bales before having a proper gallop and then back to her. He nudges the rope she's holding and whinnies, he wants to see what she can do with it.

She gives a whoop as the horse breaks into a gallop, hooves thundering as he races back towards her, leaving her laughing as he passes by and circles back again, nudging at the rope for all the world like a dog wanting to be walked.

"Ropin weren't never my strong point," she warns the colt as she paces away from the haybales, slipping the rope from off her shoulder. "Ridin the bulls: that was my place at the rodeo. Still, I ain't half bad, most days."

So saying, she stops talking to concentrate, whirls the lariat over her head while keeping the slack loose in the other hand. A cast, and the loop sails over the bale, gets tugged snug up against it. Nothing fancy, but accurate.

He neighs and trots over to the bale and nudges the rope, when he's human he knows how to rope as well.

Then he looks at the rope before trying to show the kind of riding he does and treats the hay bales as cattle, corralling them.

Though he ends up knocking of them over as he misjudges one of his turns before stopping in front of her again.

It's a gesture she knows pretty well, and one she recognizes, though she's got to admit that it is downright odd watching a horse try and herd a bunch of hay bales.

Then the horse knocks one over, making Jack wince and reassess. It's really sort of bizarre, actually. And weirdly funny, though she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and hurting the animal's feelings.

"Cowboy, huh?"

Either that or a sheepdog.

"Spent a couple summer herdin sheep. Hated ever second of it, stupid creatures. And they weigh a ton."

She's just bitching, though, and it's comfortable enough. "Shoulda known you're from out West like me, considerin the shape you picked."

He neighs before looking confused at the sheep mention and then shakes his head.

His family has cattle, sheep would get stuck in scrub worse than cattle.

When she gets to being out west, he whinnies and then realizes he has no idea how to say where or when and kind of sighs.

....That probably shouldn't be kind of adorable, a big ol' horse huffing out a sigh like a tired, wistful dog at the end of a workday, but it is. Jack half-expects its ears to droop, but though it's got plenty of expression, considering it's a horse, it's not quite to that level.

That shake of the head, at least, can be answered. She shakes her own.

"Weren't mine," she says, darkly. "Was hired to look after 'em. Don't ever go into sheep, bud. Big, stupid, and allus either gettin eaten by coyotes or gettin stuck in the brush."

Edited 2012-06-01 03:30 (UTC)

Her description of sheep is funny and he whinnies and paws the ground, its too dry out where he is for them.

Then he trots closer and tries to see if he can manage a sort of sketch of where he's from, but it doesn't really work.

"Hmm."

The sketch doesn't exactly work out (hooves not being ideal for creating detailed drawings), but she gets the idea, mulls it over as she slowly loops the rope back up.

"How 'bout I start listin places off, and you just whinny when I get to the right one?"

That sounds much easier and he neighs at the idea before munching on some grass. He's hungry for different things in this shape.

She stares at that for a second, then shakes her head and gets down to it.

"Uh...Wyoming. Texas?"

Nothing.

"Montana. Colorado. Arkansas. New Mexico. Arizona."

At the last one he whinnies and tries for a line, he's near the border with Mexico.

She's about to rattle off the others, starting with the Dakotas, but the horse stops her with a whinny, making her frown of concentration clear into a sunshiney grin in a flash of white teeth.

She's got no clue what the line drawn in the dirt might mean, but assumes it'll get cleared up sooner or later.

"Arizona, huh? I been once or twice, with the rodeo and then later on sellin tractors. You got land there?"

He neighs and tries to shrug to show that its not a lot of land and its dry but its theirs.

Watching a horse try and shrug is a little like watching a dog trying to skate: it's bewildering, at best. Her brows furrow while she tries to piece together what that might mean, before she gives up, shrugs (a much easier motion), and shakes her head.

"Me, I'm from Wyoming, but lived in Texas the last few years. My daddy's plot up in Lightning Flat ain't much, but he sure holds on tight to it."

William neighs, that's what its like for his family.

"You too, huh?"

She grins at that. "Well, I ain't much of a rancher, never was. Always wanted to just ride in the rodeo."

His next neigh is questioning, rodeos aren't a way to make a living in his time.

"We-ell..."

She drawls it out, thumbs slipping into her belt, and shrugs, an easy roll of her shoulders.

"Ain't like it's precisely a good career choice, mind. If you're good, you can make all kindsa money ridin the bulls. Get put on TV, get endorsements from big companies want you to wear their clothes or use their stuff...but that's one in a million, bud. You're like me, you get too busted up too early on, and that's it."

He neighs to try and get across that's not possible in his time, wild west shows maybe.

....Yeeeeah, they're really gonna have to chat sometime after all this, because Jack's not really getting much of, well...anything at all from those neighs.

Not that it stops her. It's take a hell of a lot more than a horse than can't talk back to get Jack to shut her trap.

"Sure is fun, though," she muses. "The crowds cheerin and clappin, the girls, the rush of the ride. Ain't nothin like it. Beats sellin tractors, anyday."

William feels lost again, he doesn't know what a tractor is. Being a horse is fun but not good for talking.

She pats his shoulder, friendly. "Don't worry about it, bud. You come find me once you c'n talk again, and I'll tell you all about the rodeo. Name's Jack Twist; I ain't hard to find."

He neighs and sort of nuzzles, nudges Jack in agreement, he will.

She grins, steadies herself against the nuzzling -- he might not be a big horse, but he's a whole lot bigger than her, and she's not so tall and strong as she used to be.

"Sounds good. In the meantime, hey." She digs in a pocket, holds something out. Something red, and shiny, that smells sweet in the hot air.

"Apple?"

He neighs happily since apples are good and maybe they should give up on talking and just enjoy the day.

Sounds fair enough. She grins as the horse takes the apple, and keeps chatting, just nonsense stuff that Ennis would hate but that's good for keeping the two of them company. She throws a few more ropes, but in the end, it seems like as good an idea as any to lean against one, tip her hat down over her eyes, and take a snooze while her new friend continues exploring the paddock area.

Being a horse. Her mouth curves into a smile in the shade of her hat, and she shakes her head, slightly.

Imagine that.

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