Post by Cael on Jul 30, 2006 6:53:21 GMT -5
Well, it has been a peaceful day thusfar across the entire farm, and having finished his days work in front of the plow, giant Nicodemus has taken his time grazing through the pasture. His leisurely gait eventually brings him closer to the heart of the barnyard itself, though the handy wooden fences the farmer has put up keep him from wandering off; not that he'd go anywhere, mind you. The Percheron's head and neck arches down towards the ground as his lips graze through the grass and pull up the occasional clump to nibble on, and his mane ripples like snow in the wind with each pull of that huge neck. At one point, Nicodemus stops to rub his cheek along his knee to rid himself of an offending itch before he continues on with his grazing, his ears scanning around every so often.
Jet's fur is a dripping, glossy-sheened mess, a fact that vexes her to greatly that she's been trying to groom it for the last half hour. It's becoming increasingly rare to see the Labrador /dry/ nowadays with the other dogs no longer threatening her for sneaking off to the river. At the appearance of the equine she shrank back to a safe distance, eyeing him warily and unobtrusively while remaining ready to bolt; her playful demeanor can only be hinted at when the dark pools that are her eyes are fixed to, to put it simply, terrified on the horse.
Hmm? A idle side glance up from the grass proves to the horse that he is not alone in this subdued and quiet time that the farm is experiencing; seems like he's not the only one not in the middle of a ciesta. His ears prick in attentiveness and he lifts his great block of a head and slowly ambles his way close to the fence where the wooden rails meet the barn walls. A smile curls across his long snout while a deep and warm nickering rumbles up from his chest. It takes him a minute, but the stallion eventually recognizes the Lab as Jet, the one who so obviously loves the water. Though he finds her wariness a little confusing, he nevertheless greets the dog warmly, "Good afternoon, Miz' Jet."
Silence. Eventually resigning herself to the fact that not replying won't get her out of this, Jet tries ever so hard not to look tense as she replies, "Good afternoon, sir.". Creep, creep... she sidles subtly towards the corner of the barn that she might slip around it and be gone if things take a turn for the worse. That horse is easily big enough to break a fence!
A slight wrinkling of his brow shows Nicodemus' confusion turning to concern as the Labrador cautiously inches her way to the other side of the barn, and a quiet murmuring sigh echos in his chest. He's just a big kitten, really. He's quiet for a moment, but slowly Nicodemus lets his head drop a little and he bends one knee to the ground, then the other, and eventually his hindquarters follow and the big fellow plops himself down fairly gracefully onto the grass. A grin creases his muzzle, and as he shakes his mane to free himself from a few buzzing bugs, he sticks his head through the rails of the fence closer to the level of the timid she-dog. "There we are now, eh? Nice'n'cozy on your level an' all." The horse chuckles, tosses her a smile, and rips up a small clumb of grass from the other side of the fence. Hmm, it really is better over there! "I see you've been down by the river, soaked through y'are. Feel free to dry yourself off in the pastures here. I know the grass is nice'n'warm."
Jet catches a glimpse of his teeth and comes so very close to balking, only managing to stop herself by focusing upon the sincerity in the stallion's voice. "I do-," a /cat/? Walking the fence perpendicular to that dividing them, the feline watches with a languid smirk at the delicious situation- a 'guard' canine quaking, "n't see why not." the Labrador changes her reply mid-execution, even picking up the volume a bit for the audience's sake. For all her bolstered nerves as far as it comes to speaking big, it's a whole minute before she actually starts slowly forwards.
With a slow and genuine nod of approval, Nicodemus smiles again at the dog and though he didn't miss the silent exchange that went between canine and feline, he greets the cats in the same warm and inviting manner as he does all creatures, "Afternoon." Though the cat practically ignores him, it's nothing to worry about, and so the stallion decides to focus on the still timid Jet. He watches her through big, brown eyes and another quiet nicker slips from him. "See there, lass, nothin' to worry yourself about, eh?" Nicodemus pauses a moment or two, considering his thoughts and his next actions, and eventually he strikes up a quiet conversation. "Now, Miz' Jet, I know we don't know each other that well an' all, but I'm worried that y'seem a little nervous around myself and my plowmates. Well, there's naught t'be feared from us, I promise y'that. Especially me," comes a hearty laugh, "Skies above I couldn't hurt a thing, Miz' Jet, so I don't want you worrying your little head right off."
His words draw a dubious, doubting look of appraisal from the canine but she continues right forwards, her last steps bringing her testingly in range of the monster teeth she glimpsed. "It's one of those things," Jet answers vaguely, "Like... you don't like fire, do you?" - when all else fails, guess.
If anything, Nicodemus bites grass, not other creatures. He does, however, refrain from eating after realizing his chompers might've been a little much. He pulls his head back from between the fence and contents himself to watching the canine through the slats, though at her question he tilts his head in thought and pruses his lips some, "Well, now that y'mention it, it makes me a little skittish, aye. Imagine," he winks, "A big ol' bloke like me afraid of a little match stick." He chuckles some, but eventually shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "Aye, little Miz', we're all afraid of something, I suppose, but I give you my solem word I'd rather die protecting you and every other beast on this farm than lift a hoof at'em, by my word." With that, Nicodemus punctuates his statement with a solemn nod of his head.
Jet finds herself quite simply torn. Her nostrils flare momentarily as she draws in the beast's scent, a strangely comforting musk, and then slips herself under the lowest plank with little difficulty in her youth. "I've had bad past experiences." she explains under her breath, an attempt at bravery drawing her up directly beside him.
Nicodemus gives a warm and satisfying nod as the she-dog slips under the fence and sidles her way a bit closer, though it falters slightly in worry as she relates to him a vague and distant mishap from her puppyhood. "Well, I'm sorry for that, young Miz', very sorry indeed. I hope one day you'll trust me enough to let me know about it, an' mayhap I can help y'with it all." Behind him, his tail twitches once or twice and again he bends his neck down to scratch at his knee. "But let's not dwell on suchs things now, eh? You're here now an' that's what matters most."
Jet eases a tiny bit. It's not so bad. "You're still ten times my size...," she points out, her own tail wagging a tiny bit if only at her accomplishment, "but I won't hold that against you." Retriever that she is, a crack in the distance reminiscent of a gunshot perks her ears but goes ignored as it's recognized as something, unidentified, else.
Another hearty chuckle spills from Nicodemus, and he looks at the young dog with a merry glint in his eyes, "Well, I thank you for not holdin' that against me, Miz', 'cause I sure can't figure out how to shrink at all. Besides, how else am I supposed to pull that plow behind me, eh?" After a little while, his laughter dies down though his good mood remains high, and though the distance gunshot perks the Lab's attention, the stallion doesn't even seem to notice it even happened.
"I bet I could." Jet claims playfully, drawing herself up to her full not-so-impressive height. She could maybe pull a wheelbarrow.
"An' Miz', you'd be the first and best plow dog there ever was, no doubt," Nicodemus smiles, gently clomping a hoof on the ground in an affirmative. It seems that the girl is warming up, which pleases the big kitten to no end, and as the she-dog stands in her proud display, Nicodemus bows his head to her, "Here's to the world's best plow dog, Miz' Jet!"
Jet laughs, "I've yet to actually plow anything," she points out more seriously, though she pads around to move under his neck and look over her shoulder at him, "Don't I need to to earn the title?" She is indeed warming up- fast and hard as her nature usually causes her to. He hasn't bitten her which places him way up there above a couple of the dogs, even.
"Ah, but you'll do great, I can already tell that," Nicodemus smiles, lifting his head slightly as the Labrador trots around his bulk to peer down at her with those warm, friendly eyes. His ears swivel atop his head for a moment or two, but with nothing else going on around this sleepy farm, the horse's attention remains with the canine. "Aye, we'll have to fashion you a plow though, since mine'll be just a tad too big for your shoulders, eh?"
"Or you could hold it and I could tug /you/?" she suggests with a tilt of her head and - if such a thing is possible- a grin. "You know, you're really not so bad for a cruncher."
He takes an amused moment to think about it, with Jet tied to his harness, the plow behind him, both of them pulling at the same time. Quite cute, that. He shifts himself on the grass a little bit, not really used to sitting himself down for so long, but at Jet's reply he tilts his head and gives her a curious quirk of his brow. "Cruncher?"
"Horse." Jet corrects herself offhandedly- easy mistake. "I just figured a lot of you were... well I'm /stronger/ than you," she teases, "But I thought you'd be a lot more pushy.
When it's all explained, Nicodemus actually chuckles a little and issues a little shake of his head, "Aye Miz', now I understand. I'd never heard that term before now." The stallion reaches out very slightly and nudges at the air near the Labrador, and though he would normally nuzzle a good companion of his, he takes enough discretion to not actually touch the canine lest he scare her back to where they started. He takes her teasing with a grin, and shakes out his mane. "Nay, Miz', like I said, I would do no such thing."
Jet shies backwards at the expense of a little balance, her paw bracing her before a topple. She looks ever so apologetic for avoiding him. "I should go in a bit," she decides with a glance out to the trail, "Oh! Do you know Kaiser?" - someone to talk to would help /so/ much, after all, that it's worth asking.
Nicodemus takes no offence at the fact that Jet still shies away, though the fact that she didn't completely bolt out of the pasture is a feet all on it's own. He takes a moment to stretch out his legs some, his ears flicking as he shuffles around to get a bit more comfortable. An idle chomp of grass is taken from the ground and as he chews on it, the stallion offers Jet a nod, "Aye, that I do. On of the farmer's dogs, he is. Haven't spoken to him much. He always seems so busy, in fact--," and as the afternoon wears on into the evening, equine and canine sit in a leisurely chat.
Jet's fur is a dripping, glossy-sheened mess, a fact that vexes her to greatly that she's been trying to groom it for the last half hour. It's becoming increasingly rare to see the Labrador /dry/ nowadays with the other dogs no longer threatening her for sneaking off to the river. At the appearance of the equine she shrank back to a safe distance, eyeing him warily and unobtrusively while remaining ready to bolt; her playful demeanor can only be hinted at when the dark pools that are her eyes are fixed to, to put it simply, terrified on the horse.
Hmm? A idle side glance up from the grass proves to the horse that he is not alone in this subdued and quiet time that the farm is experiencing; seems like he's not the only one not in the middle of a ciesta. His ears prick in attentiveness and he lifts his great block of a head and slowly ambles his way close to the fence where the wooden rails meet the barn walls. A smile curls across his long snout while a deep and warm nickering rumbles up from his chest. It takes him a minute, but the stallion eventually recognizes the Lab as Jet, the one who so obviously loves the water. Though he finds her wariness a little confusing, he nevertheless greets the dog warmly, "Good afternoon, Miz' Jet."
Silence. Eventually resigning herself to the fact that not replying won't get her out of this, Jet tries ever so hard not to look tense as she replies, "Good afternoon, sir.". Creep, creep... she sidles subtly towards the corner of the barn that she might slip around it and be gone if things take a turn for the worse. That horse is easily big enough to break a fence!
A slight wrinkling of his brow shows Nicodemus' confusion turning to concern as the Labrador cautiously inches her way to the other side of the barn, and a quiet murmuring sigh echos in his chest. He's just a big kitten, really. He's quiet for a moment, but slowly Nicodemus lets his head drop a little and he bends one knee to the ground, then the other, and eventually his hindquarters follow and the big fellow plops himself down fairly gracefully onto the grass. A grin creases his muzzle, and as he shakes his mane to free himself from a few buzzing bugs, he sticks his head through the rails of the fence closer to the level of the timid she-dog. "There we are now, eh? Nice'n'cozy on your level an' all." The horse chuckles, tosses her a smile, and rips up a small clumb of grass from the other side of the fence. Hmm, it really is better over there! "I see you've been down by the river, soaked through y'are. Feel free to dry yourself off in the pastures here. I know the grass is nice'n'warm."
Jet catches a glimpse of his teeth and comes so very close to balking, only managing to stop herself by focusing upon the sincerity in the stallion's voice. "I do-," a /cat/? Walking the fence perpendicular to that dividing them, the feline watches with a languid smirk at the delicious situation- a 'guard' canine quaking, "n't see why not." the Labrador changes her reply mid-execution, even picking up the volume a bit for the audience's sake. For all her bolstered nerves as far as it comes to speaking big, it's a whole minute before she actually starts slowly forwards.
With a slow and genuine nod of approval, Nicodemus smiles again at the dog and though he didn't miss the silent exchange that went between canine and feline, he greets the cats in the same warm and inviting manner as he does all creatures, "Afternoon." Though the cat practically ignores him, it's nothing to worry about, and so the stallion decides to focus on the still timid Jet. He watches her through big, brown eyes and another quiet nicker slips from him. "See there, lass, nothin' to worry yourself about, eh?" Nicodemus pauses a moment or two, considering his thoughts and his next actions, and eventually he strikes up a quiet conversation. "Now, Miz' Jet, I know we don't know each other that well an' all, but I'm worried that y'seem a little nervous around myself and my plowmates. Well, there's naught t'be feared from us, I promise y'that. Especially me," comes a hearty laugh, "Skies above I couldn't hurt a thing, Miz' Jet, so I don't want you worrying your little head right off."
His words draw a dubious, doubting look of appraisal from the canine but she continues right forwards, her last steps bringing her testingly in range of the monster teeth she glimpsed. "It's one of those things," Jet answers vaguely, "Like... you don't like fire, do you?" - when all else fails, guess.
If anything, Nicodemus bites grass, not other creatures. He does, however, refrain from eating after realizing his chompers might've been a little much. He pulls his head back from between the fence and contents himself to watching the canine through the slats, though at her question he tilts his head in thought and pruses his lips some, "Well, now that y'mention it, it makes me a little skittish, aye. Imagine," he winks, "A big ol' bloke like me afraid of a little match stick." He chuckles some, but eventually shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "Aye, little Miz', we're all afraid of something, I suppose, but I give you my solem word I'd rather die protecting you and every other beast on this farm than lift a hoof at'em, by my word." With that, Nicodemus punctuates his statement with a solemn nod of his head.
Jet finds herself quite simply torn. Her nostrils flare momentarily as she draws in the beast's scent, a strangely comforting musk, and then slips herself under the lowest plank with little difficulty in her youth. "I've had bad past experiences." she explains under her breath, an attempt at bravery drawing her up directly beside him.
Nicodemus gives a warm and satisfying nod as the she-dog slips under the fence and sidles her way a bit closer, though it falters slightly in worry as she relates to him a vague and distant mishap from her puppyhood. "Well, I'm sorry for that, young Miz', very sorry indeed. I hope one day you'll trust me enough to let me know about it, an' mayhap I can help y'with it all." Behind him, his tail twitches once or twice and again he bends his neck down to scratch at his knee. "But let's not dwell on suchs things now, eh? You're here now an' that's what matters most."
Jet eases a tiny bit. It's not so bad. "You're still ten times my size...," she points out, her own tail wagging a tiny bit if only at her accomplishment, "but I won't hold that against you." Retriever that she is, a crack in the distance reminiscent of a gunshot perks her ears but goes ignored as it's recognized as something, unidentified, else.
Another hearty chuckle spills from Nicodemus, and he looks at the young dog with a merry glint in his eyes, "Well, I thank you for not holdin' that against me, Miz', 'cause I sure can't figure out how to shrink at all. Besides, how else am I supposed to pull that plow behind me, eh?" After a little while, his laughter dies down though his good mood remains high, and though the distance gunshot perks the Lab's attention, the stallion doesn't even seem to notice it even happened.
"I bet I could." Jet claims playfully, drawing herself up to her full not-so-impressive height. She could maybe pull a wheelbarrow.
"An' Miz', you'd be the first and best plow dog there ever was, no doubt," Nicodemus smiles, gently clomping a hoof on the ground in an affirmative. It seems that the girl is warming up, which pleases the big kitten to no end, and as the she-dog stands in her proud display, Nicodemus bows his head to her, "Here's to the world's best plow dog, Miz' Jet!"
Jet laughs, "I've yet to actually plow anything," she points out more seriously, though she pads around to move under his neck and look over her shoulder at him, "Don't I need to to earn the title?" She is indeed warming up- fast and hard as her nature usually causes her to. He hasn't bitten her which places him way up there above a couple of the dogs, even.
"Ah, but you'll do great, I can already tell that," Nicodemus smiles, lifting his head slightly as the Labrador trots around his bulk to peer down at her with those warm, friendly eyes. His ears swivel atop his head for a moment or two, but with nothing else going on around this sleepy farm, the horse's attention remains with the canine. "Aye, we'll have to fashion you a plow though, since mine'll be just a tad too big for your shoulders, eh?"
"Or you could hold it and I could tug /you/?" she suggests with a tilt of her head and - if such a thing is possible- a grin. "You know, you're really not so bad for a cruncher."
He takes an amused moment to think about it, with Jet tied to his harness, the plow behind him, both of them pulling at the same time. Quite cute, that. He shifts himself on the grass a little bit, not really used to sitting himself down for so long, but at Jet's reply he tilts his head and gives her a curious quirk of his brow. "Cruncher?"
"Horse." Jet corrects herself offhandedly- easy mistake. "I just figured a lot of you were... well I'm /stronger/ than you," she teases, "But I thought you'd be a lot more pushy.
When it's all explained, Nicodemus actually chuckles a little and issues a little shake of his head, "Aye Miz', now I understand. I'd never heard that term before now." The stallion reaches out very slightly and nudges at the air near the Labrador, and though he would normally nuzzle a good companion of his, he takes enough discretion to not actually touch the canine lest he scare her back to where they started. He takes her teasing with a grin, and shakes out his mane. "Nay, Miz', like I said, I would do no such thing."
Jet shies backwards at the expense of a little balance, her paw bracing her before a topple. She looks ever so apologetic for avoiding him. "I should go in a bit," she decides with a glance out to the trail, "Oh! Do you know Kaiser?" - someone to talk to would help /so/ much, after all, that it's worth asking.
Nicodemus takes no offence at the fact that Jet still shies away, though the fact that she didn't completely bolt out of the pasture is a feet all on it's own. He takes a moment to stretch out his legs some, his ears flicking as he shuffles around to get a bit more comfortable. An idle chomp of grass is taken from the ground and as he chews on it, the stallion offers Jet a nod, "Aye, that I do. On of the farmer's dogs, he is. Haven't spoken to him much. He always seems so busy, in fact--," and as the afternoon wears on into the evening, equine and canine sit in a leisurely chat.