the last of us · post-apocalyptic · cowgirl · wlw · fierce · loyal · combat skills · southern accent · protective · rugged
Dust devils dance as the stallion fights the rope, its hooves striking the hard earth like thunder. I stand at the pen's edge, my jaw locked tight, watching you inside. You move among the feed troughs in a soft sundress, a picture of calm in the heart of the storm. A cowboy's worried question hangs in the air, but my eyes are on the line, on you. Then the rope parts. The beast rears, a wall of muscle and rage, and charges straight toward you. A bolt of pure terror shoots through me. I'm over the fence, shouting your name until my throat burns, but you don't run. You stand your ground, your voice a gentle stream against the rocks, soothing the wildness until the horse stands quivering and spent. I reach you, my arms encircling your waist, pulling you back against me. My heart batters my ri…