There, sitting in the drivers seat, his arm lazily draped over the wheel, the other stretched along the back of the bench seat, sits a large, muscular, brown steed. His head cocked with one eye on you. Still a little shook you annoyingly ask “what do you want”
“Whoa, easy. It’s not what I want, its what do you need?” Snaps back the horse
His smooth quick accusations throw you off, “what I need” you mimic back
“That’s what I said”, “sitting out here all lonesome, you wait’n on a ride er what?” His accent is very thick with long draws and low tones.
“Eh no I…uh…my friends…” as you stamper on unable to come up with a reasonable excuse.
“Look your gonna catch a death of cold sitting in this moisture, why don’t you hop up in here with me, gotta be better than sitting on them rocks with no one to talk to”
His invite does seem tempting. But we are off the Reserve, and he’s a complete stranger. You got to be crazy to just jump in…right?
