Are there any BLs that you feel like would've done better, if they aired today instead of when they did? Cause I feel like "Long Time No See" would've thrived in the KBL genre, if it aired now instead of 2017.
I mean, Long Time No See is amazing no matter what but if it been made now it would be infamous and everyone would know it.
I think He's Coming To Me would be even more appreciated if it aired now. I think it would be truly, absolutely, beloved if it aired now and I am happy to say how much I love it.
Just Friends? would be so beloved if it was a modern airing show. People would lose their minds just as they should!
I think Something Crunchy Crunchy should have aired now sheerly for the sake of madness.
I wish Silhouette of Your Voice was being made now because it would be an absolute banger and an actual BL unlike what it was... but that's less about the time of airing and more about the production company, I suppose.
Alright kids, sit down, buckle up, because I’ve got a story to tell!
So, I’m in college right? It’s this tiny private college in the middle of nowhere USA that you’ve probably never heard of. Anywho, so I have this class that is only on Tuesdays. The first “week” of the semester started on Wednesday, so I didn’t go to that class at all that week. The next week, Tuesday ended up being a snow day, so all our classes for that day were on zoom. The class I’m talking about is a creative writing class that really wouldn’t work over zoom, so we got an email saying that class was cancelled for that week as well. So the first two weeks of the semester and I still haven’t had this class, which is one I’ve really been looking forward to, both because I enjoy creative writing, and because of who the professor is. Needless to say, this third week comes around and it looks like nothing is going to get in the way of me going to this class, and I am super excited. The anticipation has been building up and I am ready to finally get to this class.
3:30 PM comes around and all of us are restless. The professor still isn’t hear, but it’s not unheard of for one to be a few minutes late. The clock keeps ticking by, and still no professor. Some of us check if we’ve missed an email saying it’s been cancelled. It hasn’t. We check that we have the right time. We do. Still, no professor. It’s been long enough that any other group of students probably would just up and leave, but we have all been looking forward to this class since we saw that we got it on our schedules, and we aren’t going to be leaving yet.
Still, there’s only so long you can wait before you start to get bored and restless. One of my classmates gets up and starts writing on the whiteboard. We all glance up from our various conversations to see what’s up, and he starts speaking.
“Alright, we need some controversy,” and we’re finally able to read what he wrote on the board:
Hogwarts is a bad school
Immediate agreement. I don’t think anyone disagreed, even us Harry Potter nerds, because lets face it, Hogwarts is a bad school. It breeds hatred and prejudice. The house system is bs, the year-long competition unnecessary and super stressful, there’s no unity. Anywho, no one disagreed, so he erased that and began writing something else.
“Okay, that didn’t get the response I expected so…” On the board it now said:
Himbos
Thus began the most bizarre class I have ever experienced in all my two semesters of college and schooling in general. Some people didn’t understand what a himbo was, so we wrote a list of basic characteristics:
1. Dumb
2. Beefy
3. Kind (which we elaborated as being someone who drinks their “respects women juice” or is a feminist)
This classmate then proceeded to go down a list of controversial himbos for us to decide whether they actually were one or not (we decided that anything that would take Kronk off the list was invalid)
Here’s a picture of our list:
This took at the very least a half hour of conversation. We only stopped because people had some places to be, mainly the guy who stood up and started the conversation in the first place.
Guys, I am now far more comfortable with these classmates and know them far better than some of the classmates that I have gone to school with since elementary.
Anywho, like I said, most people left after that first guy left. There was maybe about 10 minutes left of the class, technically (it ends at 4:45), and there were only four of us who opted to stay. I had another class at 7:30 and had nothing better to do until then, the other three had similar reasons. I made an off-handed comment about how it would be funny if the professor showed up the last 5 minutes of class; the others chuckled in that sort of way that meant they agreed that it would be funny if that did happen, but they didn’t really believe it would.
And you know what happened? You know what happened? He DID! Five minutes left and in walks Professor Orson Scott Card with a bag full of books and no care in the world.
It turns out that he had been told from our registrar office that the class started at 5 and he never bothered to double check, because why would they lie to him? He thought he was early. He was so proud of that until he thought the class was supposed to start and he was like, “there’s only four of you today? How odd…” and we were like, “Uh, no, technically class is over.” He was so embarrassed. We all felt so bad for him. We stayed for the next hour and a half listening to him ramble about poetry, the importance of research when writing historical fiction (He’s not a fan of The Scarlett Pimpernel), and basically whatever popped up in the conversation. Never give him a vampire book; he won’t read it. He’s not a huge fan of fantasy, because he feels like they’re all too British-lore centric and aren’t applying our modern experiences enough (he said it better but that was kind of the gist). He has a semi-morbid sense of humor.
It was fantastic. He’s funny, and he used words like “woke” and he used them correctly. Guys, he called Limericks the Dad Jokes of poetry (affectionate) when all of us said we’ve never written one before and he highly recommend we try to. He bashed critics. He talked about his kids and grandkids. He offered to read our poetry outside of class assignments and give peer feedback because he loves poetry and it’s his opinion that having a peer read your poetry is akin to giving them something to appreciate, not criticize. He thinks it makes much more sense to say “ain’t” instead of “aren’t” and calls “aren’t” old school-teacher propaganda. I’m so excited you guys, this is going to be fantastic. :)
Summary: It felt , well Angel wasn't sure how it felt. It felt surreal, that was it. It has been a hundred and twenty years of Angel and Jack left the old west behind them and came to this modern world due to some deal. 120 years since the last of their old gang having been killed either by law or by their own volition or by some other reason. People like there family didn't get many second chances but, right here, right now, that was the case. Sequel to Forgotten West. Time travel Au, deals with the devil, found family, sexism.
Jack let out a groan, as he opened his eyes. He let out wince as he shielded his eyes with his hands. All around him, Jack could hear people talking and chatting, the sounds of horses grazing, the sound of chickens happly chuckling as they ate and the sound of water lapping against the shore.
“What the hell?” Jack groans looking around as he lowered his hand, and then he let out a gasp, he was back at Clemens Point, how was this possible? As he looked around he was up at the scout fire, close to Kieran’s rock. He let out wince, as he moved his shoulder.
“Jack Matrson.” Someone yells and Jack went still looked over to see who had yelled his name, and then he let out a gasp as he scrambled to his feet.
“Mama?” Jack gasps seeing his late mother standing there, hands on her hips and a look of disapproval on her face.
“Jack, what are you doing?” Abigail asks tapping her foot.
“I-what-what- what is going on?” Jack asks staring at his mother in shock, “How is even possible your-you know.” He whispers rubbing the back of his neck, and looking down at the ground.
“Dead?” Abigail finished for him, as she marched over and forced Jack to look at her, “But, your not are you?” As she turned his head left and right, before she let out a soft hum.
“Mama, I don’t think I am.” Jack whispers feeling tears welling up in his eyes as he hugged her, “Oh mama.” He whispers as he hugged his mother tightly.
“Oh you silly boy.” Abigail coos wrapping her arms around Jack, “What did you do?” She asks him in a stern voice.
“I don’t know mama. One moment I was in court giving closing arguments for this murder, and then the jury came back and they found him gulity. And now I’m here.” Jack explains sniffling as Abigail gave him a soft hush as she patted him on the back.
“Oh Jack, I’m so sorry.” She whispers pulling out of the hug with her son, “You were shot.”
Jack looked at her mom in shock, “I would remember that mama.” Abigail gave him a sad smile as she hugged him again.
Jack sniffled feeling needing to cry, “I miss you mama, I miss you so much. I did what you wanted I became a lawyer and I’m doing good, just like you wanted me to.”
“Jack I’m so proud of you.” Abigail tells him with pride in her voice.
“Thank you mama. I miss you.”
“I know you do my sweet boy, I miss you as well.” Abigail tells him, “I’m sorry we never got our goodbye. I’m sorry that we had to send you away.”
“It’s fine mama. I know why you did it. I just wish we could have had a proper goodbye. But, with uncle Dutch going madder than hatter me and Ang had to get out of there.” Jack tells her with a weak smile.
Abigail gave him a sad smile, as she cupped her son face and planted a small kiss on his forehead, “I’m so sorry son.”
“Mama you don’t have to be sorry.” Jack tells her with a weaker smile. There was pain in his gut, and it hurt like hell.
“No, I’m sorry that you turned out looking your father.” Abigail joklying says with a laugh.
Jack just started at his mother for a moment before he started to laugh with her. “Better then Ang who looks like uncle Arthur.” That got Abigail to laugh harder. And that was when Jack started to feel funny, his arm, shoulder and stomach felt like they were on fire.
“Mama?” Jack whispers as he stumbled back gripping his stomach with hand.
“Goodbye Jack. I love you so much.” Abigail whispers, as her son fell backwards onto the ground. Jack world turned black, and then nothing.
Jack woke with a start, and started to panic. But, soon settled down he was in the hospital in Saint Denis. Jack let out a hiss,
“I wouldn’t move around if I was you.” Angel says stopping Jack. Jack looked over at Angel who was sitting next to him and was drawing something.
“What happened?” Jack asks his voice sounded hoarse. Angel let out a hum as she grabbed him a cup and straw for him.
“You were shot. Once in the stomach, by the way you were luckily nothing major was hit, once in the shoulder, and once in the arm. Your left arm and shoulder is out of commission for awhile. In fact your arm is broken from the bullet.” Angel explains as Jack drank down his water.
“What about the shooter?” Jack asks her feeling better now.
“Shot dead by the court officers.” Angel tells him as she reached around to scratch her head. Jack could only smile as she was still wearing the hat that Rosemary had given Angel as a gift.
“Your head still itchy as fuck?” Jack jokes trying to smile. This had to be rough on her, getting shot was something all to familiar for the pair of them.
Angel gave him a scowl, “Your fucking luckly jack-a-boy.” She tells him.
“I know bebe, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Angel says with a sigh, “Your stuck here for a week fyi.”
“Fuck a duck.” Jack cruises. “You going to be okay?”
One week later and Angel felt like death. The last week has been hell on her sleep schedule, she hated trying to sleep in Shady Belle without Jack. She was so used to having people around. And trying to sleep in an empty house made her feel unsafe. Without Jack she couldn't sleep.
The house was too big and she missed knowing that he was here. Even with frost the house felt empty. She had become moody, and very irritable. The only bright side was that Jack was coming home from the hospital today.
Angel was laying on her back trying and failing to fall back asleep. Frost was laying at her feet keeping her pinned, it was his attempt to get her to sleep. She let out a sigh as she closed her eyes and felt like she starting to finally, finally fall asleep. But, then! Then someone someone how the gall to play 'call to post' loudly on the trumpet. She let out a growl as frost got off of her and putting her hat on. She let out a huff, and followed the music, with frost hot on her heels. She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. Her jaw dropped and her eyes bugged out of her head.
Summary: It felt , well Angel wasn't sure how it felt. It felt surreal, that was it. It has been a hundred and twenty years of Angel and Jack left the old west behind them and came to this modern world due to some deal. 120 years since the last of their old gang having been killed either by law or by their own volition or by some other reason. People like there family didn't get many second chances but, right here, right now, that was the case. Sequel to Forgotten West. Time travel Au, deals with the devil, found family, sexism.
Angel was at Rosemary manor stable. She was humming softly as she brushed Isabella soft white coat. It was the first time in four days that she had left Shady Belle since her accident. Angel had taken to wearing a hat to hide her bald spot where, the doctors had shaved her head, to staple her skull back together and had cut off her hair. And her head was itching like crazy. But that was normal, didn’t help the matter at hand.
“Good morning Angel. Your umm looking good.” Rosemary tells her with a forced smile on her face.
Angel let out a bitter laugh as she was brushing Isabella, “You're being sweet but I know I look like crap.” Angel tells her. And Angel did look bad, she was pale, with bags under her eyes, and what was left of her hair was a mess. Jack had to drag her out of the house or studio. She was keeping up with her work for 'The legends of the west' exhibit.
Rosemary bit her bottom lip, “I was trying to be nice.” She squeaks out looking nervous.
“And I deeply appreciate it.” Angel tells her with a soft sigh.
Rosemary puffed up or tired, it was hard for her to make herself look scary when she was dressed in a pastel blue dress, “What Collin did to you was so vile! And the fact that he got off with a thousand hours of community service and court ordered therapy really ticks me off.”
Angel did laugh a genuine laugh, as she looked at Rosemary, “Darlin’ he’s rich, and the rich make the rules and the rules were he didn’t go to jail.”
“Well umm you might be right there.” Rosemary says letting out a huff, “So how is Jack?”
“Getting tired of taking care of me.” Angel answer exiting the stall isabella was in and feeling her horse an apple, “I’m joking he’s doing fine. He’s at court right now. Trying some rapist and murder.”
“Well that’s good right? Oh that reminds me, I have a baskets of gala and granny smith apples, a basket of oranges, a basket of lemondes and a couple of cartoons of strawberries.” Rosemary tells her. Angel was going to answer when one Rosemary workers came into the stable,
“Miss. Braithwaite we have a staution in the apple orchards.” The man tells Rosemary out of breath.
“Oh dammit, Angel?” Rosemary asks looking over at Angel and looking nervous.
“I’ll be fine go.” Angel tells Rosemary with a hand wave, while heading over to her custom saddle. Rosemary said a quick thank you and dashed out of the stables.
Angel went back to humming, and pulled out the saddle polish when the stables got uncomfortably cold, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and goosebumps broke out across her arms. Form her stable Isbella started to stomp her hoofs and whiny loudly. Angel was frozen, has a pair of ice cold hands gripped her wrists. Angel knees felt weak but, couldn't fall to the ground.
“Hello sweetheart.” A cold voice hissed into her ear. Angel was frozen, she knew that voice, “It’s funny isn’t it sweetheart, funny how one moment your on the top of the world and the next your shot dead by some poor fuck who wants revenge for something you didn’t do.” The voice let out a dark chuckle.
Angel couldn’t talk, it was like the words were frozen on her tongue, “It’s a shame that the Gray boy didn’t do such a good job, and here I was hoping he would put an end to you. And end to the Morgan line.” The voice let out a few tsks, “What’s even funnier when you think about your life can be gone in a flash of an eye.” In a flash the force was gone and Angel’s legs went numb as she fell to the floor panting trying to breath.
“What the flying fuck was that?” She gasps standing as she gripped the saddle as she pulled herself up as she was shaking. Isbella was still making so much noise, and was rearing up.
“Easy.” Angel says gently going over to her paddock and calming her down as she pulled out a peppermint from her pocket.
“What the fuck.” She asks the horse who started to nuzzle Angel neck while trying to steal her hat, as if trying to calm her down.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She mutters to the horse.
“ANGEL!” Rosemary yells sliding to a stop in front of the stable, as he was panting with the worker right behind her.
“Rosemary?” Angel asks confused still petting Isabella nose.
Summary: It felt , well Angel wasn't sure how it felt. It felt surreal, that was it. It has been a hundred and twenty years of Angel and Jack left the old west behind them and came to this modern world due to some deal. 120 years since the last of their old gang having been killed either by law or by their own volition or by some other reason. People like there family didn't get many second chances but, right here, right now, that was the case. Sequel to Forgotten West. Time travel Au, deals with the devil, found family, sexism.
The ending of the chapter was rewritten. Tagging: @dolphinitley, @lokighost, @naromoreau, @deputyoneill, @starsandskies, @outranks, @nykamito-x
Angel let out a sigh as she was brushing out her long blonde locks, something about today felt off. She wasn’t sure how or why? But, it felt like there was a pit at the bottom of her stomach. She was trying to pinpoint why she had this pit in the bottom of her stomach, when she heard crunching. She looked at the mirror in her vanity to see frost. The wolf was on her bed chewing on a bone.
“FROST!” Angel yells loud enough to scare off the birds that were hanging outside her window, and the wolf dropped the bone to the floor, the bone landed on the hardwood floor with a clang, as the wolf blotted off the bed and out of the room, not before grabbing his bone.
“Really wolf?” Angel grumbles tying her hair up into a tight ponytail, and tossing on a blue and purple tank top with palm trees that were drawn in black, the shirt was supposed to be the beach at sunset, with her nice blue jeans,( the ones that didn’t have paint stains on them) and her boots. And last but not least, she picked up silver chain necklace with a gold ring hanging from the center.
“Angel you decent?” Jack yells from the bottom floor, as he looked up from his work binder.
“I have clothes on if that is what your asking!” She yells back leaving her room.
“Well yea.” Jack yells back before looking back down at his binder, “You heading into Saint Denis today?”
“Kinda need to, I’m almost out of paint that I can’t make.” She tells him stretching her arms upward, “Hey is my satchel down there?”
“Yea, it's by the door.” Jack answers.
“Thank God, hey did you get a text from uncle Josiah today?” Angel asks taking the stairs two at a time, before she landed right next to him.
“Yea, but I told him I can’t go play poker today. Got to much work for this case coming up.” Jack mutters, as Angel gave him a small laugh.
“Well don’t work too hard sweetheart.” As she stole a kiss from Jack.
“As long as you don’t you cheat those poor fools out of all there money.” Jack tells her as he stole a kiss right back.
Angel let out a gasp as clutched her chest as if trying to clutch a pearl necklace, Jack just gave her an amused look.
“Jack Marston! I would never do such a thing! Oh that reminds me if you get hungry for a snack I made some raspberry tarts.” Angel tells him, walking over to her satchel that was hanging up by the door and pulling out her yellow sunglasses and grabbing her bag.
Jack licked his lips, “I do like your tarts.”
“I know you do darlin’.” As she winked at him leaving him and the house behind for the day.
Angel spent two hours in the paint shop, ordering and buying the paints, canvas, and new paint brushes. (Along with getting a text from Angelo asking if she would make some maps based off of the jack hall gang and the poison trial maps. Which she said yes to.)
“And as normal I need them sent to Shady Belle.” Angel tells the owner Mr. Inkwell, he was a nice old man, in his late fifties. She paid well and tipped well to the nice old man and his business.
“Of course Miss. Morgan.” Mr. Inkwell tells her as he rang up her order.
“Thank you Mr. Inkwell, and here you go.” As he she handed him fifty dollar tip. Mr. Inkwell gave her a big smile and thank you as Angel left the store. Seeing as she still had time before the game, she went to the old Saint Denis open market and went to this really nice Mexican restaurant, and she grabbed a beef burrito. She was browsing through social media, when she got a text from uncle Josiah.
‘Don’t forget the poker game at the old gunsmith shop today’ He reminds her
‘Yea, I know it’s just me those. Jack is to busy working on some court case today.’ Angel texts back.
‘That’s a shame but the show must go on.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do.’
‘;)’ Was what Angel texted as she went back to eating her food, and enjoying a nice and warm day. But again, something felt off, she couldn’t figure out the way. The pit at the bottom of her stomach just got heavier with each hour that passed.
But it soon became why. She went to the old gunsmith shop and took the stairs up to the second floor. Angel was on the second floor, heading up to the third floor where the poker room was for some bizarre reason. She never got the why. When she heard her name being called. She paused and felt a cold chill run down her spine.
“Well, well, well if it isn’t Miss. Angel Morgan.” A cold condensing voice says from behind Angel. Angel went still as she looked behind her, it was Collin fucking, Gray. Collin was a dick, a massive one at that. He stood tall with oak brown hair, and cold blue eyes. And wore a pair of jeans, very expensive sneakers and dark red polo shirt.
“Collin.” Angel hisses at him crossing her arms over her chest. Collin gave her a sleazy smile, as he santeur over. His hands were in his pockets and his posture was hunched over as if he was trying to come off nonthreatening. But, Angel knew how bad he was. “What-what are you doing here?”
Collin gave her a shrug, as he got closer, making Angel back up, “I heard about the poker game.”
“How?” Angel hisses trying to keep her cool as Collin got closer it, Angel’s back hit the cold guard railing that was on the balcony. Fuck.
“A man such as myself has his ways. Now what is a nice looking young lady such as yourself doing here?” He asks getting into Angel personal space, making Angel grab the railing for support as she was forced to lean back against the guard railing.
“I’m here to play poker.” She tells him. Collin let out a bark of laughter as his hands shot out of his pockets and grabbed her upper arms. Angel let out a hiss as his fingers dug into her skin.
“No, no your not.” He confidently tells her, “A woman such as yourself could never beat me.” He tells her, digging his nails deeper into her skin, Angel swore as she saw blood coming out of her tattoos.
Angel let out a hiss, “Are you still mad as hell that I beat you last time.” Angel hisses at him trying to break free, Collin nails dug deeper into her skin.
“Me mad? Never.” Collin barks, “Now why don’t you run along home and let us men play our little game.” Collin tells her with fake tone of caring in his voice.
“Fuck off.” Angel yells trying to get out of his hold.
“Now that’s not very nice, now is it?” He asks giving her a fake smile, as Angel tried to get out of his hold.
“Fuck you.” Angel growls rearing up to kick him in the balls.
“Now, now, now. I’ll let you go if you behave Angel.” Collin tells her with a fake smile, a cold shiver ran down her spine when he said her name. It felt gross to hear him say her name.
“Oh?” Angel asks stopping to see where this was going, “For love of fucking God! I’m not going out with you!” She yells at him.
“What a shame then.” Collin tells her grabbing her, and yanking forward in act of fright she let go of the railing, “And here I was hoping we could give this a chance.” Angel didn’t get a chance to say anything as Collin shoved her back and off the railing. Angel let out a scream as she flew backwards from the railing. Time slowed, as she closed her eyes. Her head had body hit the pavement with a loud crunch and thud. Copper filled the air, as she could feel the blood in her hair. She looked up with blurry eyes to see the horrified and disgusted face of Collin. As if this had not been what he wanted, like he didn't want this to happen to her. Over the ringing in her ears she tried not to pass out she could hear someone calling her name, and yet she soon lost consciousness.
I'm not dead. I swear I'm not dead, its Christmas time at work and were super busy and I'm trying not to you know not die. Plus I'm also in two secert santas one for red dead and the other being fallout.
There were places in the world that time forgot. It was as if time had frozen and nothing had changed, nothing new or old. The grizzlies west was one such place, in the last hundred and twenty years the region had changed little. It was still cold as hell, with mountain ridges, snow-capped valleys, and treacherous cliffs. No one was smart enough to live up there, and those who did rarely made it out alive. No, old mother nature had lay claim to the grizzled west and there was no changing her mind.
Colter was no exception to the rule. Once an old mining town, and now after a hundred and twenty years it was lay abandoned and forgotten. Frozen in time literally and figuratively. No fool was brave enough to come here, well just any fool and a wolf that is. The wolf simply known as frost had frozen, and then started to bark and the poor fool with him could only groan.
“Goddamnit it frost, stop howling at the wind.” The fool, frost master, Angel snaps. Angel had gone to Colter for one reason maybe for two reasons. She was in dire need of pictures, for a new series of paintings she was working on. So she dug out her winter jacket lined with fur, her rabbit fur lined gloves, her winter boots, a hat and scarf and a pair of snow sunglasses, and she was off to Colter. She rented a horse and had gone to Colter.
“It's colder than a witches tit.” Angel hisses, as a cold breeze washed over her. Frost could only leg out a soft bark. With a hiss, Angel pulled her scarf up, so her mouth and nose were shielded from the cold.
“Let's see, I still need pictures of the inside of the houses, and where Pearson was step up.” Angel mumbled to frost. As Angel started to take pictures of the old kitchen, she froze when she heard growling.
“Right.” Angel mutters with an eye roll, on the other side of the town were a pair of wolves. “Frost!” She calls as frost rushed over to Angel and started to bark and growl.
“Do you mind?” She asks the wolf, frost in turned licked his chops, as the wolves looked at frost, and looked scared, “Have fun.” She calls as she moved to the closest house. Frost let out a happy growl and charged at the other wolves.
The door was frozen shut, and with a huff she kicked the door in. The door crashed and banged against the door, the room hadn’t changed. But gone was the feeling of sorrow, the smell of death and blood. As Angel looked around the small shack, finding frozen blood on the floor and wall where a small cot was. As she took pictures she found a sneaky board, and she smirked. She scooped up the thing hidden in the floorboard and left.
“Have fun?” Angel asks as she left, frost was standing over the corpses of the dead wolves. Frost was a big wolf, larger than any ordinary wolf. After all he was a hundred and twenty years old. Frost let out a happy bark.
“Well I got everything I needed and wanted, hold up.” She tells frost walking over to makeshift graveyard, she took a few pictures of the graves and then she done, “Come one frost, let’s go.” Angel orders getting on her horse. Once more the old mining town was left to rot in the cold.
Strawberry was cold, wet, and miserable. But that, that wasn't the worst part. No the worst part was the fact it was a tourist town. The town had kept it's rustic charm and buildings. The town had grown to accommodate its growing population and tourist industry, it also got a train station.
Angel had to hold back a curse as some wannabe hunters passed her on ATVs, as she got closer to the town it got louder and more hipsters and wannabe hunters filled the town.
"I hate people." Angel proudly announces to Jack. Jack was at the hotel sitting in a comfy chair reading by the fire.
"You don't say." Jack dryly says not looking up from his book, "So how was Colter?"
"Cold and depressing." Angel mutters sitting down next to him with a huff, "Frost is at the stables."
"Good to know that a giant wolf isn't strolling around the woods of Strawberry." Jack mutters with a smile.
"Ha, ha, ha. Right that reminds me." Angel tells him as she pulled something out of her satchel and handed it to Jack. The item in question was largish box. The box was made of pine and wrapped in cloth scraps and some fur. And inside were preserved toy soldiers. "Right where you left them." She adds with a wink.
Jack closed his book, and took the box from Angel, "I didn't think you would actually go and find them."
Everyone in the paddock stilled as the horse let out an agitated neigh as it reared up. Angel stilled, she let out the horse rear and height and then stopped as it was staring Angel down. Angel posture spoke volumes, she was standing tall and firm but relaxed and easy making sure the horses knew she meant him no harm but when she spoke
Angel spoke in a low soft comforting voice, “It’s okay, not body going to hurt cha.” She cooes. The horse let out a whiny as landed back on all fours. Angel started to slowly approach she stopped when it let out a neigh and started to dig into the dirt.
“Your a good boy ain't cha?” She asks him, the horse stopped and snorted. And Angel took that her queue to start to approach again, Jack had to do a double take, as he rubbed his eyes. For s split second he swore he saw the ghost of Arthur Morgan in the paddock, but it was Angel. She was slowly and cautiously walking towards the horse but stopped short. The horse let out a high pitch neigh, as he reared up.
“Hey, it’s okay shhh, shhh.” Angel gently says calming the horse down. The horse stopped rearing and locked eyes with Angel.
“Shhh, shhh, it’s going to be okay.” Angel cooes once more. The stallion let out a snort, as Angel got close. With great care and ease she cupped his muzzle and started to pet his neck.
