incomingchoppers | IC INBOX

[loyally:] Hey, no, I seen you with Chills, you do all right. Anyway, horses aren't too bad, they just look it sometimes 'cause they're so big. Um...

[the sound of a door opening, followed by distant yapping, chiming, and purring from the O'Reilly menagerie]

Tell you what. Meet me at the ranch when you got a minute? I think it's gonna be easier if we got an actual horse you can meet.

[before she can argue that Chills is merely a beast who won't leave her alone, she hears the sounds behind him.]

Okay. I've got a free afternoon tomorrow, I'll be there.

[this is going to take time, and she needs to start now, and she already foresees her winter schedule being a little hectic.]

Okay! I'll see you then. Bye! Bandit, no, that's TJ's -- !

[click]

-----

The next day, Radar heads over to Baker Ranch early enough to coax Danforth out of his stable and have a nice long talk with him before Fever shows up. Look, I know you're worried about Helga, but she'll be okay for a couple hours. And you gotta be nice today, okay? Fever might be a little scary but I promise she ain't gonna hurt you, so just... be gentle. She's still learning. No nipping, no kicking, no nothin', got it?

Danforth snorts. Radar's pretty sure that's a yes.

By the time Fever arrives, he's all set to go, standing near the fence line with Danforth on a lead rope.

She shows up, but the caution is in her posture, how she lingers near the gate instead of coming in. The horse is...well. He's a horse, and that's fine. Why'd she agree to do this again? Probably because she was so baffled to be asked in the first place that agreement had just slipped from her mouth.

Okay. Okay. The low hum of anxiety is something she'll have to ignore.

"Thanks for meeting me. You were the first person I thought to call."

Say this for Radar: few things brighten his day more than hearing he's indispensable. He perks up and says, cheerily, "Of course, ma'am, glad to help."

A soft cluck of his tongue, a small tug on the lead rope, and he and Danforth walk toward the gate. Slowly, though. He can hear that anxious hum like an electrical wire and doesn't want to spook Fever or the horse.

"This is Danforth. He's Mr. Rambo's stallion. Sometimes he's a little persnickety but I gave him a good talking-to so he oughta be all right today. We're just gonna start slow and it'll be fine, okay?"

Okay. Just...open the gate. Inch closer. So far, so good - keep your hands to yourself. He's with Radar, it's fine.

(the worry crystalizes as he comes near, the clearing of static. I don't want to hurt you.)

Careful. Careful and slow, her hands shrouded in gloves, one coming to brush fingertips against his mane.

"What should I..."

"You're not gonna hurt him." Soft. "He's tough. So -- you're doin' good, staying on one side where he can see you. Horses got a blind spot right in front of them, so you always wanna come at 'em from the side, not straight at the front or back. And see what his ears are doing?"

Danforth's twitched an ear in her direction, upright and alert.

"That means he's paying attention, but he's not scared. So you can keep patting his mane if you want."

Slowly, it turns from the barest touches to an actual patting, the anxiety loosening some when nothing seizes her, when Danforth is as well and calm as he was when Radar brought him over. It's actually okay. This can work out.

"How do you know when he's unhappy?"

He's being very tolerant right now, and she's grateful. She can't do this for the town if she can't make herself relax some - he'll tell her if he's decided he has enough, right? Some signal she can watch out for. But this...this is nice.

As she relaxes, Radar does too. Not that he was tense, exactly, but -- he wants this to go well! It's just like any other time you introduce two friends and hope they'll hit it off, except one of those friends is a horse.

"He'll push his ears back against his head, kinda like -- " Radar demonstrates, setting one pointer finger upright against his temple before swiveling it backward to imitate a horse pinning its ears. "Sometimes he'll start swatting his tail around real fast, too. And if he's really scared or mad his eyes'll get so big you can see the whites around the edges of 'em."

None of which Danforth's doing right now, luckily. Though he does blow a raspberry at Radar, who just laughs.

It makes her laugh too, and she finds herself breathing deeper, easier.

"Yorick says the horses I'm going to meet are quite calm, and I believe him, of course. I just don't want to have no idea what I'm doing when the time comes. I feel like they'd know, and then choose not to behave in the first place."

Fever shakes her head.

"Usually I've just passed by this ranch, never stopped over. Maybe I should have, months ago."

"Oh, you know you're always welcome," Radar's quick to say. "Any time you want! Mr. Rambo won't mind. And if you ever wanna meet any of the other animals too all you gotta do is ask."

He starts to rummage in one pocket. As he does, he asks, "So it's all official and everything, huh? You're gonna be driving the carriage on Mourner's Night?"

"Yes. It's still a shock they asked me at all - I would have thought it'd be the Mayor again. She's got experience, after all, and she's from here."

But something had compelled a yes from her lips - something she could not have stopped if she had thought to try. Danforth offers no clarity, but he's being calm, and she can imagine maybe driving him around if he stays just like this.

"I wonder if anyone else is being asked to come along. People who aren't already involved, I mean."

"They might be," he says, thoughtful. "You know, I bet they're trying to include a bunch of off-worlders too so they know we're welcome. Even if this ain't home forever it's still home for now, you know?"

And from what he's heard about Mourner's Night, it's a nice thing for everybody to experience -- no matter how long they've been on Marrow Isle -- when they're all stuck under the barrier and can't die for long.

Radar finally unearths what he's been searching for: a quarter of an apple, the core sliced away. Immediately, Danforth's nostrils flare as he tries to bend his head closer. "Okay, next step," he says to Fever as he hands her the apple and muscles Danforth's head back a few inches. "Hold that out for him, but keep it right in the middle of your palm with all your fingers flat and together. Otherwise he might think one of your fingers is a carrot and nip you."

Edited 2024-12-20 02:33 (UTC)

She won't push back on the idea of home more than she has to. Her own feelings on the subject are buried deep, deep, and if she thinks too hard there's a risk they'll float up into Radar's perceptions. So instead, she takes the apple and does as he instructs, holding it out slowly. Careful, careful - and when Danforth does take it from her, she laughs at the feeling of it, watching him go for the treat with as much eagerness as she tends to attack a fresh made bun from Max.

"I like fruit too," she confesses to the horse, pulling her hand back when it's clear he doesn't need her to hold it anymore. "If I'd known, I would have brought some to share, and thereby win your favor that way."

If this is common, she'll bring some to the horses she's meant to drive. An offering, in hopes of a decent event. And it's sweet, this moment, almost too sweet, enough to make the bile rise in the back of her throat and be swallowed, because to give any quarter to what's in her head is to make it known, and her present company doesn't need that. So she folds it into the smallest form she can, holds it down, the way she does around Valdis. It can rage all it likes later, if she's allowed a peaceful moment now.

He hears her laughter like birdsong above the nervous electrical hum; hears something else flicker, and be shoved away before it becomes truly audible, like the distant grumble of a jeep passing by. Radar couldn't chase after it even if he wanted to. He doesn't know how, and might not ever learn.

Besides, knowing what he knows about Fever, he doesn't want to hear it. If it's another one of those awful thoughts she can't control, it's not gonna do anybody any good if he overhears. The way the thought goes small and quiet and too far away to pick up means she's probably doing that thing she's been doing all along: hiding it for Radar's benefit. Trying not to scare him.

It's a kindness, he figures. Not a trick.

"Most horses like that kind of stuff," he says. Danforth stretches his neck to try and lip Fever's shirt. "Apples, carrots, berries, sugar cubes -- oh, if you get peppermint sticks at Ambrose's shop I bet the horses you're working with'll love 'em. Here, I got the rest of the apple if you wanna give him more -- "

Danforth snorts and starts trying to nibble Radar's shirt instead.

Her shirt yields no apples, nothing suitable for a horse, but she's laughing anyway as he tries. Laughing, and keeping the thought in check, as surely as sitting on it might do.

"I'll make a stop just for their sake."

She likes Ambrose, anyway. What she's spoken to him about in the back, hot mug of tea and honey in her hand, remains quiet. The war's scars still linger, physical and mental, but coming on Degas's recommendation had opened a little door, offered yet another soul to talk to. And the results of his craft were superb.

"Here, give me that quick, before he starts eating you in protest-"

She has to save Radar from a stallion who thinks he's being held out on.

Radar's free hand scrambles through his pockets. Laughing harder as he tries to scold the horse, he tries, "Danforth, no, you gotta wait a second, that tickles -- "

Danforth blows another raspberry, unmoved by Radar's protests. Apples should never be subject to the whims of mere men! How dare you imply otherwise, good sir!!

"Here," and finally digging out the remaining three-fourths of the apple, he quickly passes it over to Fever.

The shhhk of Danforth's teeth crunching the apple heralds Radar's freedom, and Fever feels fine to reach out and stroke his mane again.

"What does he do around here? Aside from be a handsome beast?"

"Oh, he hauls stuff and he's good for riding." Gently, Radar rubs Danforth's velvety nose, then grins. "But being a handsome beast really is part of his job, too, on account of him bein' a stud horse. In fact he's already gonna be a dad next summer, aren't you, boy?"

Danforth, too busy finishing up his prize apple, does not deign to comment.

"...there's going to be a baby?"

Her mind can only picture Danforth but about a fifth of his actual size.

"Yeah." His smile grows. "Helga got pregnant a couple months ago, so the foal's gonna look a little like her too, but yeah -- they come out about this big," he gestures, right about at that one-fifth mark next to Danforth, "all ready to run and everything."

There's a question that comes to Fever's mind. Probably something Radar can hear easily, so simple and direct as it is, though she has to gear herself up to say it. But she will, almost shy about it.

"...when the baby is born, can I come see it?"

Just born, and ready to run. What a wonder.

Overhearing what she's gonna say, Radar starts, just before she does: "Yeah, of course you can come see it soon as it's born, I'll call you first thing. Helga'll probably be fussing for a while but it'll help if it meets a whole lotta new people early on. That way it's more used to 'em later."

When she's told, she'll find a way to make time. The idea fills her with the same wonder as knowing a chrysalis would hatch into a butterfly. She still would need to be so cautious - but looking would do no harm. New life.

"I'll bring something for her too, since she'll doubtlessly be exhausted after all her hard work. In your hands, she needn't fuss too much."

Her wonder washes over Radar like sunlight emerging from behind a cloud. It makes him grin all over again, delight shared at the prospect of more life coming into the world. Just like when the 4077th helped one of the local women through a birth and the baby crying was the sweetest sound Radar thought he'd ever heard.

"I hope so," he says. "She likes me well enough already that I don't think she'll mind me being around. And as soon as you give her a couple carrots and scratch that itchy spot she can never get on her neck, she'll love you too."

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