Chapter 215: Hoot to Trill

Editor: nnpdad

I didn’t hurry on my way out and even patiently waited for Brin when I had to send him back to get his knucklebone. I suppose he could sense that I was feeling distressed and left it behind in his urgency to be there when I called. I scooped up Lunch’s reins and settled into the saddle. It wasn’t a hurry-up type of thing, just a long-practiced movement that appeared liquid smooth when performed in such a mood.

I was burnt out emotionally and really needed a day to recharge my emotional energies. I knew that the upcoming postal trip would involve far more social interaction than I liked and that I needed to exude that diplomatic/salesman persona that was so foreign to me. Even thinking about it was enough to drain me, not to mention the fact that a young woman whom I loved very much was deeply upset by the current proceedings. Now, for fuck’s sake, I had to deal with the loudmouths and the rest of my immediate clan before I could calm my little Mouse.

Lunch seemed to sense my mood and started ambling home, walking with a gait so smooth you would swear you were sitting on a rocking chair. I relaxed in the saddle and let him do his thing, the reins loosely wrapped around the pommel I simply sat back, lit a cigarette and enjoyed my moment of peace and quiet. It wouldn’t be long before my clan members caught up to me with their questions, comments and contrite apologies. I enjoyed the silence of the dark while I could.

It wasn’t long before I heard a fast trotting horse behind me, I had hardly finished my cigarette and pocketed the butt before they caught up. I had just enough time for a last small sip from my flask and then I had company. Naturally it was big old Sherriff on his mule and that mule wasn’t interested in taking his time like Lunch was and tried to move on ahead. Sherriff’s hauling at the reins wasn’t doing much to slow that mule down but Lunch took exception and a swift nip brought that mangy mule into line. Lunch was the king of the herd and his desire was law; he got to eat what he wanted, fuck who he wanted, when he wanted and generally set the direction and pace in all things equine. It’s good to be the King.

Sherriff had the wherewithal to catch the mood and respond in kind, so he was silent for a good minute or two as we plodded along together. Brin had taken off behind us to scout out who ever else was back there and we simply rode along in silence. I passed my flask to Sherriff who took it with a grunt of appreciation, after a stout swig he offered up his contrite apology.

“Tough day.” Simple statement from him allowed to hang gently in the air, I simply grunted in response and we rode on in silence a while longer.

“I apologize for my part in it.” Said and finished, he took another swig and handed my flask and handed it back. I hoisted the flask to him, taking a swig before replying.