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Description
Alright, alright, alriiight, first entry for This one's a bonus picture, because I'm trying to have the narrative in order.
Look at Mr. Grumpy Pants pouting up there. B'awww.

_________________________

This was becoming a bad case of frayed nerves.

Nicholas had already spent a good deal of time hiding amongst the crowd. He arrived, put Autumn in the stable, then kept to himself. He didn't know these people and didn't want any trouble. All he needed was to get in, do what he needed to do, and get out. Quick and efficient.

Only, he was one of those people who tended to grow clumsy, the more stressed he became. That resulted in bumping into one too many people and knocking over things that didn't belong to him. That welcomed dirty looks which resulted in higher stress levels. Rinse, lather, repeat. This was quite a cycle, huh?

See, he wasn't exactly planning to come out here to the dry desert. And boy, was that something to get used to. He was accustomed to the soggy air of the southeast. All of this dust was making him itch and cough. Yes, this was all his brother's idea. Get away, he'd said. Sometimes goin' somewhere else helps out, y'know? That "thing" needing help, being the aching mood that clung to him like wet clothes. Yeah, he'd had an "episode" some months ago that needed tending to. Not something he wanted to talk about with anyone. But, it still wasn't truly better. He wasn't truly better.

So, here he was. Out in the wild with their dog and a borrowed horse, looking to be useful. Which wasn't going so well. Oh the sheriff, he didn't seem too happy at their presence. The guy reminded him of a particularly aggressive teacher he had his freshman year. Yikes. This was going to be fun (not).

Oh well, atleast he wasn't a Texan.

He followed the group into the saloon, hoping no one would notice Tallulah slipping in beside him. It was so crowded, he just might have gotten lucky. He decided to push that luck and sneak a drink, while the dog settled under a table. But his baby face was an easy give away and all he could get was a root beer. Shame. He was really craving a bottle of whiskey, right then. Why couldn't the drinking age be eighteen instead of twenty-one?

"Well, Tal," he said, sitting at the table. "Looks like it's just me and you. At a bar, of all places."

Tal answered with a yawn.

"Mmhmm," he took a drink out of the glass bottle.

And that's when the sheriff came in.

“Get yer horses, you lazy tenderfoots. Get yer horses and be at the freight depot in five minutes or we leave without you.”

Everyone froze. Nicholas had his bottle half way to his lips before seemingly getting stuck in that position.

“Damnit, or you ain’t gettin paid! How does that sound?? Now GET GOING.”

The crowd suddenlly got into motion. Bumping into tables, leaving drinks behind. Nicholas growled under his breath, afraid he was going to get left behind.

"C'mon, girl," he lifted his bag and threw it over his shoulder. "Let's get goin'."

__________________________________

(c) Twiggy Stone (except for those little snippets from the original assignment)
Art Tumblr
Twitter
Instagram

Description
Alright, alright, alriiight, first entry for This one's a bonus picture, because I'm trying to have the narrative in order.
Look at Mr. Grumpy Pants pouting up there. B'awww.

_________________________

This was becoming a bad case of frayed nerves.

Nicholas had already spent a good deal of time hiding amongst the crowd. He arrived, put Autumn in the stable, then kept to himself. He didn't know these people and didn't want any trouble. All he needed was to get in, do what he needed to do, and get out. Quick and efficient.

Only, he was one of those people who tended to grow clumsy, the more stressed he became. That resulted in bumping into one too many people and knocking over things that didn't belong to him. That welcomed dirty looks which resulted in higher stress levels. Rinse, lather, repeat. This was quite a cycle, huh?

See, he wasn't exactly planning to come out here to the dry desert. And boy, was that something to get used to. He was accustomed to the soggy air of the southeast. All of this dust was making him itch and cough. Yes, this was all his brother's idea. Get away, he'd said. Sometimes goin' somewhere else helps out, y'know? That "thing" needing help, being the aching mood that clung to him like wet clothes. Yeah, he'd had an "episode" some months ago that needed tending to. Not something he wanted to talk about with anyone. But, it still wasn't truly better. He wasn't truly better.

So, here he was. Out in the wild with their dog and a borrowed horse, looking to be useful. Which wasn't going so well. Oh the sheriff, he didn't seem too happy at their presence. The guy reminded him of a particularly aggressive teacher he had his freshman year. Yikes. This was going to be fun (not).

Oh well, atleast he wasn't a Texan.

He followed the group into the saloon, hoping no one would notice Tallulah slipping in beside him. It was so crowded, he just might have gotten lucky. He decided to push that luck and sneak a drink, while the dog settled under a table. But his baby face was an easy give away and all he could get was a root beer. Shame. He was really craving a bottle of whiskey, right then. Why couldn't the drinking age be eighteen instead of twenty-one?

"Well, Tal," he said, sitting at the table. "Looks like it's just me and you. At a bar, of all places."

Tal answered with a yawn.

"Mmhmm," he took a drink out of the glass bottle.

And that's when the sheriff came in.

“Get yer horses, you lazy tenderfoots. Get yer horses and be at the freight depot in five minutes or we leave without you.”

Everyone froze. Nicholas had his bottle half way to his lips before seemingly getting stuck in that position.

“Damnit, or you ain’t gettin paid! How does that sound?? Now GET GOING.”

The crowd suddenlly got into motion. Bumping into tables, leaving drinks behind. Nicholas growled under his breath, afraid he was going to get left behind.

"C'mon, girl," he lifted his bag and threw it over his shoulder. "Let's get goin'."

__________________________________

(c) Twiggy Stone (except for those little snippets from the original assignment)
Art Tumblr
Twitter
Instagram