Duck hasn’t felt weather this fair since April. The breeze is thin and cool and carries a scent so sweet it often has him pausing to breathe it in. The sun is high and tucked behind huge, heavy clouds liable to drop a rainstorm any moment. He’s been longing for this tender spot between summer’s oppressive heat and winter’s unforgiving cold, it makes for good working and riding weather. The people in town feel it, too, leaving the shade of their porches to mingle in the streets. Children race by, kicking up dust and holding their hats as they hoot and holler. It’s good to see the faces of these folks again, familiar, treasured. All but one. Duck carries four feed sacks with a touch of difficulty, two on each shoulder, and calls out to the unfamiliar face beside his horse. “Halloa, traveller,” he greets, dropping the bags so he might tie them to the saddle. “Fergive my assumptions, but I suppose you’re new to town. You wouldn’t be lookin’ to take up a job would ya?”
@dcschain WANTED A STARTER!