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When you been working with animals all your life, seems wrong not to.
Seems...
well. Ennis ain't out of it yet, and some pain ain't gonna keep him from the paddock. Slow him down, maybe, and could be why he's restin' against the fence instead of giving Tequila a work through, but he's out there.
And that's something.
Seems...
well. Ennis ain't out of it yet, and some pain ain't gonna keep him from the paddock. Slow him down, maybe, and could be why he's restin' against the fence instead of giving Tequila a work through, but he's out there.
And that's something.
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"Mmmm."
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And then she lifts her leg over his withers and slides off, landing with a soft thud on the grass. She winds an arm absently around his foreleg, and leans against him, while he snorts at the sky and casts baleful looks at the paddock's occupants.
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Boukephalos shifts his weight and lifts his head high, scanning the horizon again.
River's eyes drop, and she tries a smile. It mostly succeeds. "Said."
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"Said what?"
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"Come again?"
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"Yes."
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Ennis' look clearly says "WHAT?!?"
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"You can. I asked."
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"Can what?"
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Possibly either she's forgotten which words she actually used, or she's forgotten again that not everyon is psychic.
"With Jack. Down the ramp."
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OH.
"On the ship?"
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She looks down, and lets her fingers slide over Boukephalos's knee.
More tentatively, "Captain said yes."
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"Thank you."
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"He say when?"
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"One day at maximum burn. Two if the course corrections are indistinct." Beat. "Ask Wash."
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"You'll come 'n get us."
It's almost a question.
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"Send up the signal flags."
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"'ll keep an eye out."