;;.brown.eyed.girl;;

[||Sadie Wilhem||]

Sadie closed her eyes as she felt Maverick's warm breath on her face. So what if it wasn't the prettiest smell in the world? There were alot of things that normal girls would snarl their lip at that didn't mind Sadie. As she guided the big Hanovarian into his new stall, a slight smile made its home on her pretty face. This was a very nice barn and Sadie was excited to make this her new home. Her stomach jumped a little with excitement. This had been her life long dream, to be emersed in a horse world. Although she had left all of her friends and family a long way away, she was anxious to begin her new life when she stepped out of the car this afternoon. A smooth, steady hand skimmed over Maverick, the big bay gelding's, muscular neck. They had been through so much together and this adventure was no different.

In no time at all, Maverick was all settled in his stall, munching on his grain. Sadie slid the stall door closed and did up the latches, remembering a specific month where Maverick had learned how to open his stall door from inside. It had made Sadie's Aunt and Uncle mad when Maverick had snuck into the feed room and helped himself but Sadie couldnt help but laugh. Looking around, she wondered what to do. Walking past the tack room, Sadie wished she could just pick up her saddle and go ride, but knew that Maverick needed time to get used to his environment and time to eat.

Pretty soon, Sadie ran across a lounge and her curiousity got the better of her. That was one thing that everyone noticed about Sadie, she was extremely curious about everything. Pushing the door open a little, she poked her head into the clean, neat room. It was nice and cozy, complete with a tv, kitchen and more books than Sadie could possibly read. She remembered someone telling her to help herself to the barn lounge. Walking in, Sadie made her way to get a soda from the fridge, then made her way to the leather couch. Pulling one of the english riding books from the table, she flipped through the pages, sipping on her orange soda.

[Dallas[.]Angel]

Repeat the sound of it, again and again. The footsteps wandering up and down the isles of the barn. A young female it was, lead rope in hand as she led her horse into the stall. It couldn't be guessed as to how many times this had been done here, at Wild River. Maybe it was her first time? Maybe she's done it a million times before? But anyone could see the relationship between rider and horse. At least, it should be easy to see. Anyone who's known horses, and even doesn't, should see it. It didn't take an expert.

The sound of a door opening, then closing. Which door? Ah, yes. That was the one. It led to the Barn Lounge. It was a comfy place, but only if you liked conversation. At least, that's the vibe it gave off when you entered. It was a room for more than one person to sit. If there weren't many there, it felt lonely. So empty and bare, the only noise reaching your ears being the noises from the barn, or the ones made by yourself.

The doors opened once more, a tall man walking in. He wore a jean jacket, a white sleeveless shirt, jeans and boots. Oh, and don't forget that black Stetson. Not exactly what you'd think of seeing when you come to a barn so full of clean horses and people. He, on the other hand, looked dirty. Not in a bad way, but the entire front of him from knees up to chest were discolored. It looked liked he'd possibly fallen, though that wasn't the case. No, he'd been working with his own horse before the sun had even risen. He'd had a few "run-ins" with the stallion, but nothing serious. At least, not as serious as things used to get.

Deep blue eyes gaze up from under his Stetson. He reaches up with his right hand and pushes it back, leaving it to hang on by the stampede string. His messy brown hair was smoothed out somewhat as he ran a hand through it. He looked somewhat gruff, tired, or annoyed. Still, though, he had a gentle air about him. With a long stride he walked over toward where the girl stood. He reached for the fridge and grabbed a Pepsi. Without a single word, he snapped it open and took a long sip. When he finished, he glanced over to her for a moment.

"What's your name?" He wasn't usually one for conversation. He was the Barn Manager, Dallas Zeke Morrow. He didn't need a reputation as the big bad cowboy, so he was determined to try out conversation. At least, as talkative as he is, let people know he isn't some giant to fear, standing at 6'9". He was muscled, too, and the only places it was visible was beneath his white shirt that clung to him.

[||Sadie Wilhem||]

The room had an erie silence about it. Although there was the feeling of former conversations and conversations yet to come hanging in the air, right now there was nothing; nothing except Sadie humming. She couldn't stand silence, it was to solemn for her. To fix the silence, she began humming a french jazz song. Yes, thats right: Jazz. Sadie, whom you would think would by the look of her popular songs, actually liked unusual music for her time. Jazz, Folk, and Intrustmental music took up most of the room on her itunes. The music coming from her closed, thin lips wrapped warmly around the room, no longer making it feel erie but full of cheer. Sadie had that power. Sitting there in her green tee-shirt and knee-ripped jeans, she had the power to transform the room.

Another noise entered the room; the opening and closing of the door. Sadie looked up from the book, turning her head to look around. It was a tall cowboy, looking pretty dirty and rough. Sadie gave a polite smile as she swung her bangs of her chocolate, brown hair out of her face with a flick of her head. A normal human being would probably be intimidated by the guy that had just entered the room, but whether it was nievity or just non-judgemental, Sadie didn't look at the guy any differently. She smiled again as he demanded for her name.

"Sadie. You? She said happily, her brown eyes looking up into the cowboy's. He looked a few years older than her but she didn't mind. Sadie was the type of person to make friends with someone not on their age, but on their personality.