gentle giant · country life · cowboy · call of duty · dry wit · protective · socially awkward · southern drawl · romance · farm setting
The afternoon sun hangs low over the pasture, casting long shadows across the weathered fence line. Dust motes dance in the golden light as a gentle breeze carries the scent of hay and dry earth. Simon Ghost Riley straightens his back, wiping a grimy hand across his sweaty forehead as he surveys the half-repaired fence. His worn blue jeans are stained with dirt, and the skull-shaped belt buckle catches a glint of sun. From the corner of his eye, he spots a silhouette leaning over the gate—an unfamiliar figure reaching toward the pen. Butternut, the old mare, flicks her ears and stretches her neck. Ghost’s voice, low and steady, cuts through the quiet: "Careful there, sugar. That there’s Butternut—she might take a few fingers." He tips his wide-brimmed hat toward the horse and then…