tonight. jayce pauses in his rummaging to pitch another surprised look of pleasant approval. reservation still creeps along the edges of a contained smile as he nods, but it's still a smile nonetheless, one that splits his lips apart to flash the small gap in his teeth— he's a bit more excited, as much as he is still reeling about how much . . . the ideas and thoughts connected.
who would've known. he still wonders if he's asleep in his single cushioned bed, with nothing but a pillow and his childhood blanket, wrapped in lofty dreams and destined to wake up to the neigh of horses hungry for breakfast.
once his working strikes have finished the job, jayce gives one more 360 degree survey around the mare, checking her conformity from the front, then the back. a little lopsided beam makes their dimly lit surroundings look a little brighter as he comes back around, slipping his hammer into one of his leather apron pockets and wiping his labored hands on it. he's satisfied with his work; her posture is perfect. ]
She's ready. I'll— I'll get her tacked up.
[ he can't afford to jog, almost forgets in his haste which quickens a tiny skip in his pace before he forces himself to slow, and walk with less of a limp than when he forces himself. jayce situates himself with viktor's riding gear, which now finally connects in his head, and gets to the final touches. bridle, halter, saddle pad, his personalized saddle, and so on.
it's to the mounting block. he's already smiling dumbly as she treks with him. he can't really see but there's a small difference he hopes he's glimpsing. ]
Do you need help mounting?
[ he figures it's worth it to ask; let viktor be the boss of his own needs. ]
no subject
tonight. jayce pauses in his rummaging to pitch another surprised look of pleasant approval. reservation still creeps along the edges of a contained smile as he nods, but it's still a smile nonetheless, one that splits his lips apart to flash the small gap in his teeth— he's a bit more excited, as much as he is still reeling about how much . . . the ideas and thoughts connected.
who would've known. he still wonders if he's asleep in his single cushioned bed, with nothing but a pillow and his childhood blanket, wrapped in lofty dreams and destined to wake up to the neigh of horses hungry for breakfast.
once his working strikes have finished the job, jayce gives one more 360 degree survey around the mare, checking her conformity from the front, then the back. a little lopsided beam makes their dimly lit surroundings look a little brighter as he comes back around, slipping his hammer into one of his leather apron pockets and wiping his labored hands on it. he's satisfied with his work; her posture is perfect. ]
She's ready. I'll— I'll get her tacked up.
[ he can't afford to jog, almost forgets in his haste which quickens a tiny skip in his pace before he forces himself to slow, and walk with less of a limp than when he forces himself. jayce situates himself with viktor's riding gear, which now finally connects in his head, and gets to the final touches. bridle, halter, saddle pad, his personalized saddle, and so on.
it's to the mounting block. he's already smiling dumbly as she treks with him. he can't really see but there's a small difference he hopes he's glimpsing. ]
Do you need help mounting?
[ he figures it's worth it to ask; let viktor be the boss of his own needs. ]