(Untitled)

[aimedforthemoon]

Esfir was born and raised a city-girl. The city in question might have been a bombed out ruin for most of the time she was there, and there might be too many nomads in her background for her to ever shun the wide open steppes and forests, but when all is said and done, she's a city-girl

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[almosthonorable]

Ben's stretched out beneath a nearby tree, sketching those same horses.

He'd noticed Esfir approach the fence a while ago, but something about the set to her slight shoulders had given him pause.

Now, though, he's standing and slipping the worn leather sketchbook into his pocket, and tucking the graphite pencil he'd gotten from Bar behind one ear.

He's quiet (but not too quiet, he knows better than that with this one) as he ambles over and leans on the rail beside her.

"Howdy, Lieutenant."

[aimedforthemoon]

She turns her head to look at him, and something in her shoulders eases.

"Pryvet, Wade."

[almosthonorable]

He tips his head toward her, then nods at the pasture.

"Right pretty sight."

[aimedforthemoon]

"There are not a lot of things better than well cared for animals."