to get a jump on the day.
Shoving the ring on my finger, I walked out the back door. The birds perched along the porch railing greeted me. They chirped as if they were laughing at me as I sucked in my breath when my warm feet hit the icy wood planks.
The Earth sang out a joyous greeting, warming me starting with my smarting feet. I let her ease my aches away. I ignored this sense of impending… I don't know what. Something hovered at the edge of my perception that would eclipse my current worries and problems. It was like working a puzzle blindfolded, striving to line everything up even though I couldn't see the pattern. I heard the ticking of the clock as it wound down. When it stopped, I had to be ready, or everything I'd built would collapse around me.
A noise from the horse barn caught my attention. The tawny hind end of a lion stuck out of the door. Dammit! I had told him to leave her alone! I walked out to the barn to get Corleone, the Shirdal who endeavored to seduce my horse, Dancing Socks, out of her stall. Shirdals were lion-eagles of myth and legend. Obviously, they were alive and well in the twenty-first century, and he was bound and determined to mate with my mare.
I'm not sure how a creature with eagle eyes and a hooked beak could appear abashed, but Corleone pulled the look off when I walked into the barn trailed by my two guards. He was caught. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there but he couldn't seem to help himself.
We were all awed when the Shirdals first appeared. The creatures had made their home in my territory and surprisingly joined the fight when the serial killer, Craig Stoiler, attacked the ranch some months back. They were very much individuals with their own personalities and this one was a horn dog for my horse, attempting to get under Sock's saddle for a bit of fun.
"Corleone, you're not supposed to be in here," I said aloud as I reached out for him through the Earth.
We'd had this conversation a couple of times. He was enamored with Socks and she ignored him. In his mind he was strong, his lion's coat golden and his feathers soft. He couldn't understand why she didn't want him.
I was secretly proud of my girl Socks for not giving in to the Shirdal. Though he was persistent, I hoped he'd eventually give up his quest. No matter how many times I'd told him she was a horse, he continued his pursuit.
I stepped in front of Corleone, put my hands on his feathered chest, and pushed him gently backward out of my horse barn. The two guards who shadowed me settled a small distance away to keep from crowding me but close enough to come to my aid if needed. Corleone sat on his haunches and huffed in an oddly hissy way. I felt how lovesick he was but there were consequences if Corleone received his heart's desire.
"You might consider having Socks seen by the vet and fixed, just in case." The huge cowboy, taller than Ushna and wider across the shoulders, stepped out of the horse barn. With one hand, he settled a tan Stetson on his head and covered the curly black hair he'd tied at the nape of his neck.
I smiled. Randy had come out of the barn carrying a small lumpy bag, which immediately caught Corleone's attention. His laughing black eyes regarded the Shirdal as he dug in the sack.
"What? You think Socks will give in to the horn dog?"
Corleone grunted in displeasure as he lay down on the ground. Randy took an apple out of the bag and the Shirdal carefully removed the round morsel out of the rancher's hand. Rolling the fruit on his tongue, Corleone crushed it with his beak as he unabashedly stared back into the stable. When he finished, he silently begged for another from Randy, who fished in the sack for a delicious red treat.
"I think Corleone is persistent and Socks isn't as unaffected as she acts," Randy replied, scratching the feathered head of the Shirdal. "In the days of Sumeria, it had been considered a great honor among kings if a Shirdal chose to reside with them. A pair, such as you have,
Shoving the ring on my finger, I walked out the back door. The birds perched along the porch railing greeted me. They chirped as if they were laughing at me as I sucked in my breath when my warm feet hit the icy wood planks.
The Earth sang out a joyous greeting, warming me starting with my smarting feet. I let her ease my aches away. I ignored this sense of impending… I don't know what. Something hovered at the edge of my perception that would eclipse my current worries and problems. It was like working a puzzle blindfolded, striving to line everything up even though I couldn't see the pattern. I heard the ticking of the clock as it wound down. When it stopped, I had to be ready, or everything I'd built would collapse around me.
A noise from the horse barn caught my attention. The tawny hind end of a lion stuck out of the door. Dammit! I had told him to leave her alone! I walked out to the barn to get Corleone, the Shirdal who endeavored to seduce my horse, Dancing Socks, out of her stall. Shirdals were lion-eagles of myth and legend. Obviously, they were alive and well in the twenty-first century, and he was bound and determined to mate with my mare.
I'm not sure how a creature with eagle eyes and a hooked beak could appear abashed, but Corleone pulled the look off when I walked into the barn trailed by my two guards. He was caught. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there but he couldn't seem to help himself.
We were all awed when the Shirdals first appeared. The creatures had made their home in my territory and surprisingly joined the fight when the serial killer, Craig Stoiler, attacked the ranch some months back. They were very much individuals with their own personalities and this one was a horn dog for my horse, attempting to get under Sock's saddle for a bit of fun.
"Corleone, you're not supposed to be in here," I said aloud as I reached out for him through the Earth.
We'd had this conversation a couple of times. He was enamored with Socks and she ignored him. In his mind he was strong, his lion's coat golden and his feathers soft. He couldn't understand why she didn't want him.
I was secretly proud of my girl Socks for not giving in to the Shirdal. Though he was persistent, I hoped he'd eventually give up his quest. No matter how many times I'd told him she was a horse, he continued his pursuit.
I stepped in front of Corleone, put my hands on his feathered chest, and pushed him gently backward out of my horse barn. The two guards who shadowed me settled a small distance away to keep from crowding me but close enough to come to my aid if needed. Corleone sat on his haunches and huffed in an oddly hissy way. I felt how lovesick he was but there were consequences if Corleone received his heart's desire.
"You might consider having Socks seen by the vet and fixed, just in case." The huge cowboy, taller than Ushna and wider across the shoulders, stepped out of the horse barn. With one hand, he settled a tan Stetson on his head and covered the curly black hair he'd tied at the nape of his neck.
I smiled. Randy had come out of the barn carrying a small lumpy bag, which immediately caught Corleone's attention. His laughing black eyes regarded the Shirdal as he dug in the sack.
"What? You think Socks will give in to the horn dog?"
Corleone grunted in displeasure as he lay down on the ground. Randy took an apple out of the bag and the Shirdal carefully removed the round morsel out of the rancher's hand. Rolling the fruit on his tongue, Corleone crushed it with his beak as he unabashedly stared back into the stable. When he finished, he silently begged for another from Randy, who fished in the sack for a delicious red treat.
"I think Corleone is persistent and Socks isn't as unaffected as she acts," Randy replied, scratching the feathered head of the Shirdal. "In the days of Sumeria, it had been considered a great honor among kings if a Shirdal chose to reside with them. A pair, such as you have,
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