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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 5:24 pm
the sheep farm. Rolling hills lay before, like waves on the far off seas. Off toward the west, a flock of sheep relazed in the dawn, chewing mindlessly on well crushed grass. Their faces, black as the river stones, stared off towards the east, where the sky had turned a soft pink. Little did the sheep understand how important they were to the family that took up residence on the house to their southeast. All they knew and cared to know was that the good man came every day and gaurded them with the tempered fluffy dog, and they were usually unharmed. And then every summer they were freed of their hot wool and fattened for the winter ahead. The girl would sometimes come out and ride one of them, and the mother would garden. Nasty woman, she was, didn't like the sheep much. Nor did the sheep care for her; she didn't let them eat from her garden. That was all the flock knew of the humans, and that was all that interested them. To the group, the next sheering was much more important than the going ons of another species.
Before the flock lay a fence, built by the shepherd and his nephew years ago. It surrounded the farm, and bore a single sign. It read ...Quote: Do not come to the Macdonald property without invitation. There are dogs and guns. You have been warned.
The farmhouse, humble in size and build, sat towards the east. It wasn't built with much skill, for Angus was no builder and never claimed to be. It boasted three bedrooms; a master, Aron's room, and the children's room. The fourth room was a kitchen and living room combo, half full of kitchenly furniture and half with chairs and a table. Not much time was spent in the house, so not much work was put into making it comfortable and homely. In fact, the family was quite accostum to sleeping outside if the weather was nice and there was a man home. The sheep always found it odd.
ooc: don't join unless invited PLEASE. ._. this thread is the Macdonald's home, so only family and crazy cool buddies can come. the list of invited people is as follows: -katersaur -moonrazor
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 6:32 am
"Easy, now... Easy, little brother..." Aron spoke softly to the horse, his seat keeping him easily balanced as the chestnut Falcon shied to the side, away from the sudden bleating of the sheep. They had seen him, Aron knew, and some of the black-faced creatures had learned from experience that the arrival of the boy oftentimes meant a carrot or two sneaked in here and there. And like the horse and the two dogs that seemed to accompany the boy always, they had learned to greet him. "But y'ain't ready for all that, now are ye, boy?" His one hand rested calmly against the stallion's withers while the other gently caressed Falcon's warm neck as he half reared. The chestnut's ears were pinned flat against his head, his eyes rolling, and a patch of sweat started to break through, dampening the fur. The sheep bleated again. "Oh, be quiet, you dimwitted beasts!" Aron hissed as Falcon kicked out at the air. "Come on, brother, easy..." Perhaps the greatest fault of riding without a bridle was the fact that he could not dismount at any time. If he did during one of Falcon's little fits, the stallion would bolt and run himself into the ground. "They're just like them dogs you're friends with, see." He said gently, still soothing the horse. Falcon pranced on the spot agitatedly, eyeing the sheep, but besides that, he did nothing else.
Aron guided him gently forward. Falcon was far from being comfortable witht he sheep, but Aron knew that the land on which the sheep stood was land on which the sweetest grass grew, and he so wanted to turn Falcon out to graze along with them. In his mind's eye, he could picture the chestnut cantering toward him with a feisty buck at the sound of his whistle, weaving his way between the scattered sheep. "Come on, now..." He said slowly, as Falcon took a hesitant step forward. "Sheep..." Falcon stretched his nose out cautiously, as did the sheep. The two bumped noses briefly, and then Falcon leapted back with a squeal, striking bad-temperedly at the ground. "Ho! Easy..." He guided Falcon gently forward once more, and this time, he stood his ground. Aron slid from the chestnut's back, landing lightly on the ground next to the horse. "There you go." He said quietly, softly massaging Falcon's poll. Then he stepped away. The chestnut made as if to follow, but Aron pointed his hand at the horse's shoulder, shaking his head. "You stay here, now." Falcon stood, hesitant for a moment, before lowering his head to the grass with a deep nicker.
"There's a boy."
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2006 6:14 am
((This'll be my Falcon-getting-rid-of post, I guess xD He's just gonna run away. No big xD))
The sound of two dogs barking rang out in harmony, and Aron immediately recognized the deeper bass of Gimli's bark against the higher shrill of Sam's. He turned his head to see the two dogs bounding up the hill, their claws tearing away at the soft turf in their obvious effort to reach him. "Hey, boys." The dogs leapt to join his side as he sat down to watch Falcon. The horse's ears flickered, and he stepped about through the grass agitatedly, as if ever read for flight. Aron frowned. "He's about to run..." He realized. He felt a sickening feeling to his stomach. He couldn't stop Falcon if he wanted to run, but why did he? Aron thought back. Nothing had happened that would have broken their trust. He stared at his horse. As if feeling his gaze, Falcon lifted his head. In his eyes shone complete trust, and yet there was no visible relaxing of the horse's muscles at the sight of him. He was still going to run.
Aron stood, and took a step back. It was something else, he knew. Falcon had been too far from home for too long. Now that he knew how to take care of himself, he was ready to leave. Only, it had taken him years to get ready, and he had made too many friends along the way to just leave without saying goodbye. Before he realized it, Aron was by Falcon's shoulder. The horse looked up at him soulfully, his ears pricked forward. The boy stroked the horse's nose. "I know you're ready to go, little brother." He murmured. "I just never expected you to want to go." He stopped, letting the silence fill the pause. He looked down at Sam and Gimli, sitting in the sun, panting. "But I got my boys. You go, 'nd we'll be fine. Just you wait and see." He said with a fleeting smile, giving the horse one last pat. He sighed. "Make sure you're gone soon enough." He told the chestnut. Taking him by the mane, Aron led him upward. They crested the hill side by side. The horse's ears pricked forward at the sight of the land spread out around them. He knew where he wanted to go. He was ready. Aron slowly untangled his fingers from Falcon's long mane. The horse turned his head to look back at him. "Well, get." Aron said simply, turning to leave. He didn't turn around, even at the sound of thudding hooves receding into the background.
"He's gone, boys." Aron muttered, slumping back onto the grass. Sam crawled up to him through the grass, and laid his muzzle on the boy's arm reassuringly. Aron managed a smile. "Don't you two run off on me." He said, shutting his eyes against the glare of the sky. Falcon was gone, he would have to learn to accept it.
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Posted: Sat Nov 18, 2006 7:50 am
It was dawn at the sheep farm, and the family was already alive and bustling. Angus, the head of the house, moved about the one room that the family shared, passing by his wife with a certain bitterness that can only come with a fresh fight. He sat roughly at the breakfast table, drinking warm milk fomr a hand made mug, shooting glares across the room. His pride and joy, a young boy by the name of Bryce, attempted to copy his grough stature and movements, though he was barely successful. Heather set down a plate of dry bread with a clatter, and moved back to the stove. "Angus, sweetheart, do you think next time you go to town you could see about a goat?" Her voice was icey and cold as she scrubbed at things, making the house spotless. That was what the mother did when she grew angry, for it was unthinkable to lash out at her husband, her provider. She instead grew stone cold to him and allowed him no affection from her. In some twisted way, it was her revenge, as it didn't question his authority as head of the house. "What do we need a goat for?"Angus's words were harsh, almost accusingly. "Oh, Daddy! I wanna goaty, too, Daddy!" Little Kelsi, not older than six, stirred from her silent state on a chair near her mother, looking up from her newest sewing project. It looked like a disfigured dog, but Kelsi was positive it was a perfectly good doll. "Well, goat milk is supposedly healthier than cow milk. That's what the ladies in town told me." Heather smiled down at her daughter, and leaned to fix the little girls apron. "Do I look like I'm made of trading goods to you?" The father chose to ignore his daughter, though he had quite the soft spot for her. There had been few times when he had denied her wishes, but this fight was not with the little girl. It was with his wife, who was obviously up to something. "They're cheaper than cows, Angus." She put down her rag and leaned heavily on the washtub, her other hand on her hip. "We should trade in the old thing out in the barn for a couple a' goats. And any breedable cow is able to trade for even more than that, so maybe we could get some ham from it. With the holidays coming..." And there she had done it. Mentioned the holidays. The root of almost all of their fights was religon. "I don't know what holiday you speak of. The old ways only teach that the deer are in rut soon, and make for good hunting." He shot a glare across the room. As if on cue, Bryce stood, took his little sister by the hand, and went to go feed the sheep breakfast. He wasn't old enough to understand the subject matter, but he was old enough to understand that the fight was getting heated. With the children gone, Heather let go of her self control. "I don't care if you want to ignore the truth, Angus. Get me the goats and the ham and I'll shut up for the rest of the year." "... I don't want you to shut up. Why can't we talk about things without you dragging that crazy religous garbage into it?" The man stood and moved to hug his wife, but she was quick to duck away. He was left slightly hurt by the gesture, having actually wanted to heal the fight. With a final glare, he clenched his jaw and left the house, stalking off to the barn, where he made a short job of throwing a rope halter and reins on his old mule, and took off bareback towards the town.
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Posted: Sat Nov 18, 2006 2:55 pm
Aron stood aside as his uncle brushed past him on his way back to the house. He knew better than to comment. He had learned the hard way that if he did, he might end up losing half the morning standing outside the barn and listening to his uncle rant.
Not that he minded, far from it. It gave him time to think over things that he normally wouldn't have come to, as well as let Angus vent his anger. It always seemed to make him more cheerful, if not completely free of guilt and blame.
So Aron muttered something and bade his uncle a good morning, and made his way into the house. It was not any better inside the house, he decided immediately. If anything, it was a worse situation to be in. He would have rather stayed outside if he had known Heather was angry too - which he should have guessed by the look on his uncle's face. It was too late to leave now, for his aunt must have heard the door slam closed behind him. A contemplative frown settled on his brow as he strode to the table and grabbed some of the leftovers. He let the silence settle for a moment. "What did I miss?" He asked his aunt finally, leaning against the wall.
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Posted: Sun Nov 19, 2006 7:52 am
After her husband's rather loud departure, Heather had been quick to grab her rag and furiously scrub at his breakfeast plate. There were a few tears in the corners of her eyes, but she was too stubborn to let them fall. She heard her nephew come across the room and tensed slightly; she hated being seen like this. At least the children were outside. At Aron's words, the wife set the plate down, then the rag, and leaned on the small table she ued as a counter. "Your dearest uncle had a tantrum." Her voice was full of venom, and she only allowed something like that when Angus wasn't around to hear it. Despite everything, she was his wife, and was to respect him. Which she did... When she wasn't angry.
In a moment, Heather lost her composure and moved to sit in a chair, leaning on the table. "Y'know, sometimes I wonder what I've gotten myself into. All I did was mention goats instead of that ol' cow out there. None of us like her, right? She's a stubborn girl, and I think she'd trade well in town. We'd be able to get THREE goats for her, I think, since she can still bare a few calves." The women took a raggedy breath, and then looked over at her nephew. He had grown to be a fine young man in his time with them, and it almost pained her to complain to him. He seserved more than this. "We might even eb able to get some nice ham for the holiday. But you know your uncle. He doesn't like mention of religon in the house. Stuck to the old ways, he is." She shook her head.
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Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2006 4:39 am
Aron had grown used to listening to his aunt and uncle spilling whatever they had to say about each other, and more often than not, he found their arguments rather pointless, such as he did this one. An argument about trading in the old cow for a couple of goats? It didn't quite seem to add up, and he wondered briefly to himself whether or not they had been in fight before the cow tirade.
From where he stood, Aron shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing along his lips as he inclined his head in brief agreement. Yes, he did know how his uncle was. So did both his cousins. Perhaps too well. "Three goats," He said shortly. "Not as big as a cow. Less to brag 'bout in town." He thought about the cow, though, and wondered if she wasn't too old to still have calves yet. He had always learned to think from the animals' point of view, but it was hard to judge age when he wasn't one. "If'n he breed her..." he added. "Calves sell for 'nough money to last say, three weeks." He said, doing the math quickly in his head.
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Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2006 9:31 am
"Mmhmm. Calves are good for tradin' these days. All people want is a good cow for their family." At that, Heather broke down into a giggling heap in her seat. "Funny, in'init? I wanna get rid of that ol' sucker of a heffer, and others want her." Recovering from her small fit, she stood again to clean. It was a way of living for her, really. Cooking and cleaning. Some gardening thrown in the mix, too. Today, she'd probablly have to let the sheep out of the home pasture if Bryce didn't. A smile came to her as she thought of her tough little son, shepherding his little sister away from the heated arguements. He was a smart kid; didn't deserve a shepherd's life. But that was the way it was, and so is life.
The woman was quiet for a time, looking about the one family room, and then off to the door for the master bedroom. It was a small room, almost a niche in the wall, but a bed large enough for the two of them fit in it, and that was really all they needed. It had some space for dressing as well, and a small table Bryce had built. A wobbley thing, it was, but Heather kept it there proudly. Off to the corner of the room were two smaller beds where the children slept, and then off in the other corner was another bed for Aron. She winced a little, knowing all too well the growing lad needed his own room. Angus had promised to build one, but only God knew how long that could take. "Y'know, I just think that goats will suit us better. We don't drink loads of milk. Two does'll serve us breakfast every day, n' a buck'll keep 'em milkin'." She sighed, leaning on the table for support. "I suppose it's a silly arguement. He won't be sellin' that cow any time soon."
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Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2006 3:12 pm
Aron shrugged, look out through the window in the direction of the barn. "Think what y'will," He said. "But he jus' stormed into that barn to get the mule. Looked like he was headin' out." His gaze returned to his aunt, thought it lingered on the wide open fields outside as he pulled it back. Yes, that was what his uncle had been doing, getting the mule ready for a trip into town. He didn't think Angus could be quite so angry going out to herd sheep. Inside, he was rather glad that he had been so angry. Having to go to town with him would have been quite a bit of a waste of time.
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Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2006 4:38 pm
Heather looked out the window towards the barn, a smile forcing its way on her face. Perhaps her husband wasn't as bad as she thought. Well, he really wasn't, she reasoned. It was just... they were both stubborn. If she had been smart, she would've married the blacksmith. Young love is hard to fight, though, and she truely couldn't see herself as a blacksmith's wife. She suited the shepherd's wife life much better, tending to the sheep when he was away at town or taking sheep to be traded for new stock. "Y'know, Aron, you're uncle ain't a bad man. He just gets a bit mean sometimes. That's all." She wanted it known that she truely did love Angus deep down, she just didn't love his temper.
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Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2006 4:42 pm
Aron gave a wry half-smile, raising both hands. "'Ey, well, I'm not here to judge," He said with a nod, knowing full well that was why his aunt had said anything at all. Besides, they both knew how highly he thought of his uncle, which wasn't an altogether common thing for Aron's way of thought.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 7:38 am
Heather smiled at her nephew, thinking back to when he was just a little thing. Ah, her own little things! Where had they gotten off to, anyhow? She remembered Bryce herding his sister off, and she had figured at the time that he was going out to feed the sheep or the mule. A look out the window found the sheep still in their closed night pen, which meant the children hadn't gone to the pasture. "Aron, do you know where Bryce went off to with Kelsi?" She made a move for the door, barely a nerve frayed. She did trust the pair to run around the property, and she trusted Bryce to take his dagger, so she wasn't so much worried for them as peturbed she didn't know there where abouts. Leaning on the door frame, she called out,"BRYYYYYCE! C'mon back here now, sweetie! Got 'ta do yer chores!"
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Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2006 1:19 am
Aron shook his head. He hadn't seen his two younger cousins on his way back. Of course, they could easily have rushed by him without his quite noticing. He had his own things to worry about it, and it had been all he could do to keep Sam from following him back to the house. Gimli on the other hand... Aron frowned slightly at the thought of Gimli. He was a talented hunter, obedient too, but he showed nowhere near the level of affection that Sam displayed, and it was worrying enough on a wide open range such as the one they lived in. If Gimli pulled a runner, Aron would have to find another dog. He knew that Sam was not at all aggressive enough to be able to manage a lone hunt. Sam was the brains, not the brawn, of the partnership between the two dogs.
Aron looked up, jerking his head a little. Close enough to starting, but not quite. He blinked, a little lazily for the time of day, and pushed himself off the wall.
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