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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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I’m so sorry for this guys but

AITA for telling someone their horse was masturbating?

Basically does what it says on the tin. For those of you who don’t know horses can masturbate. It’s most common in male horses under the age of three who have not had their testicles removed and who are confined to a stall or small pen and get really bored. They typically grow out of the behaviour once they’re older or given more freedom. Some owners try to train them to stop it from happening but most just ignore it because it’s better than other boredom behaviours like cribbing and wind-sucking (both are SFW to Google btw).

Anyway, I’m a groom and stable hand, mid-twenties now but been working at my job since I was fifteen (part-time then, now full-time). The stable I work at boards horses and gives lessons but also offers training for young horses, so we get a lot of OTTB here – that is “off-the-track Thoroughbreds”, so ex-racing horses that people typically buy cheap and then retrain to be show jumpers or dressage horses or whatever. One such horse is Bert, who is the horse in question in this situation.

Bert has excellent bloodlines but he sucked as a racing horse so he was sold OTT. The man who bought him, I’ll just call him John, knows nothing about horses – he’s a total beginner in every way, has never ridden and pays other people (including me) to take care of Bert, but claims to be an expert in everything equine because Bert cost him so much money (I don’t know the actual amount but he’s in the section of the stable where the $20,000 Warmbloods are boarded so I’m assuming around that amount which is a lot yes but also not the most expensive horse we’ve had here).

Anyway the actual story – I’m at work cleaning out stalls when John walks past, he completely ignores me as he always does so I do the same and get back to work. A few minutes later he goes sprinting back in the opposite direction which I thought was weird but whatever, I kept mucking, until I heard him shouting for help. I went out into the aisle and he’s there shouting at another groom and demanding to know the emergency vets number (it was a weekday morning btw, so he didn’t need the emergency vet, he just needed the regular vet but that’s meaningless anyway). I went over to see what was happening and he tells me his horse (Bert) is ‘acting weird’ and needs a vet immediately, so I offer to go see Bert for myself and then call the vet if necessary.

So basically yeah Bert was masturbating. Had an erection, was rocking about rubbing it on his tummy, and did NOT want anyone going in his stall or touching him. John points at Bert and says something like “see, he’s sick!” and then tells me Bert tried to attack him when he entered the stall and I just, I dunno, I cough and say that Bert is fine and just wants some privacy right now, figuring that the obvious erection might be a giveaway as to what’s happening? But John turned to me and blurts out word for word “are you an actual retard” and then starts cursing at me and telling me I know nothing and Bert needs a vet etc and so on. I kind of blanked on everything else he said after he called me a retard to be honest because WTF? I don’t really know what went on in my brain in the next few seconds but I ended up shouting – yes, shouting, extremely loudly, it fucking echoed in the stable – “he doesn’t need a vet because HE’S JUST MASTURBATING” in John’s face and then walking back to the stall I’d been mucking.

As I got back to the stall I heard laughter from a couple of aisles over. Apparently my co-workers and some riders who were there had all heard me shout and found it hilarious, and that made me laugh too because it was so freaking ridiculous. I honestly kind of forgot the entire encounter afterwards because we had a horse who actually needed a vet a little while later and yeah, John and Bert just slipped my mind.

I didn’t remember until that afternoon when my boss came to see me and said he’d had a complaint from John who wanted me fired. I did not get fired but I did get ‘warned’ (just a formality, my boss didn’t actually punish me but wanted me to act like I had been if John questioned me later, which he never did). John complained that I’d treated him like an idiot, spoken down to him, and “acted above my position” (those were the exact words he used) causing people to laugh at him. I explained the entire situation to my boss, who also laughed, and that was that, nothing else ever came of it aside from my co-workers telling the story of me shouting HE’S MASTURBATING so loudly it scared a pony into jumping so suddenly that it farted to everyone they possibly could.

Since then John has ignored me even more than before which I honestly consider a blessing, and I would leave this situation thinking I’m NTA except that one of my co-workers brought their boyfriend to the stable recently and when they introduced us the boyfriend said something like ‘oh right, you’re the asshole who talks down to people who don’t know everything about horses’ and yeah. My co-worker was blindsided by that as well and we basically both said you don’t have to know everything about horses to know what an erection means, but since then I’ve been wondering if I am TA in this situation? Like, clearly there were better ways to tell John what his horse was doing, but he called me a retard and also I get paid to take care of horses not to teach the birds and the bees to fifty year olds so I don’t know. I’ll let Tumblr decide.

So, AITA for telling John his horse was masturbating?

Additional info: I'm on a rota with other stable hands so I sometimes groom Bert, muck his stall, attend to his vet/farrier appointments, give him worming paste, etc and so on. I am not his trainer and have no input into when he gets to leave his stall. I've mentioned to my boss a couple of times that he boredom stims and should be in a paddock with other young horses, but John refuses to agree to that for reasons I don't know. My boss has since spoken to Bert's trainer who is now trying to convince John to let Bert have more time outdoors.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #slur cw

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cheriladycl01 · 18 days

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It's not so stressful when I'm with you - Daniel Ricciardo x AmericanOlympicEquestrian! Reader

Plot: Daniel Ricciardo as the most Non-American American to ever walk this planet, got himself a real southern belle cowgirl. A busy week up coming up with the Austin Grand Prix and Equestrian Competitions.

Credit to chanandlersstuff for the GIF

The next week was going to be stressful for both you and Daniel. Monday - Thursday you had Equestrian Competitions across Texas and then, Thursday - Sunday Daniel had his race at COTA.

Which meant there was no time for you guys to chill out and spend time properly with one another. You owned a farm in Texas, where all of your horses and other animals stayed.

Monday was a day where you spent most of the day prepping your thoroughbred for tomorrow. You gave her lots of treats and practiced with her in the fields and along the walking trail behind your ranch home. Only did you spend dinner and the short time in the evening with Daniel before you needed an early night.

Tuesday morning and you were waking up for 5am, putting on some denim shorts and one of Daniel's oversized shirts and slipping on your authentic cowboy boots and hat before making going out on the farm feeding all the animals while watching the sun rise.

Daniel woke up to your sweet kisses, 2 hours later and your hand caressing his back, a groan coming from the back of his throat.

"Mmmmm baby" he groaned feeling your nails brush down his back as you started to scratch it a little, knowing it was one of his favourite feelings apart from the g-force in an F1 car.

"Baby, my competition is soon. You got to get ready if you are going to come" you say, and he sighs forcing his face into your pillow, sniffing it to smell you more before he fully gets up. He loved hearing your cheery southern belle voice in the morning.

In seconds the door that was pulled closed burst open as your golden retriever 'Badger' come bundling in and jumping up on the bed starting to lick Daniel's face.

"Badger, stop" he groans making you just chuckle as he tries to swat the dog away. You pull him down off the bed, rubbing and petting him before lightly tapping his behind to get him out the room. All while Daniel rubs the slobber off his face using the back of his hand.

Daniel was now sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"You look so sexy in the mornings" you smile pushing his hair out of his eyes before kissing him all over his face.

After that he spent the whole day with you watching you do what you did best ... ride. And yes, he would constantly make that joke to everyone and anyone he could.

He was your personal photographer for the whole day, taking angles of you on the horses and around the farm. He was in awe the whole day and any onlookers could tell he was in his element.

Wednesday came around and he helped get your horse ready for the dressage day, there was way more fans around the center today wanting pictures with you and your horse. As a bronze medalist for America, whenever you came to these competitions you were treated like royalty.

Thursday rolled around and Daniel was heading to the race-track while you were still at the Equestrian centre, making sure your horses were okay to travel back. You both didn't see each other for the whole day, and from the last few days were so exhausted you'd fallen alseep alone, hours before Daniel came back from dinner with Max, Lando, Oscar, Yuki, Charles and Pierre.

He'd got in, just as exhausted as you had been, crawling straight into bed without a shower and only in his boxer shorts, not having the energy to change into his pijama trousers.

Friday was the first day you could have a lay in this week, and Daniel knew that so of course he didn't force you to come watch him at FP1. Once you gradually woke up, got ready into a nice little sundress showing of your curves before leashing up Badger to take him to the track with you to see Daniel.

You spent the rest of the day with Daniel at the race track showing badger around. He was used to the loud noises thanks to all the farm machinery, so when FP2 came around he sat calmly next to you as you watched on with headphones, your boyfriend going 5th fastest for the whole practice session.

You came home together and he helped you settle the farm down for the night, taking a bareback ride together to watch the sun set.

You both slept soundly that night, waking up together back in the normal routine where you made fresh breakfast while he showered and the ate together and then he fed the dogs and let them out while you showered.

You both headed to the race track together, this time with your award winning horse that for whatever reason the FIA allowed Daniel and a few other drivers to ride down the track and Paddock lane. You rushed home placing Sparkles into the stable before making the journey back so you wouldn't miss qualifying.

You watched as your boyfriend managed to get into Q3 despite some car issues and qualified P6. You were screaming at the top of your lungs when you heard through your headphones where he managed to place and everyone in the garage pulled you into a hug.

You both went out for a romantic dinner that night in the place you'd first met in which was right after you'd won your first Olympic medal.

"God, i remember this. I was over there at the bar dancing on the table in my bell bottoms!" you giggled, looking to the bar area.

"I remember too, I came over to you and I said Howdy to you. You laughed and ignored me" he smiled, all nostalgic and reminiscent.

"Well, your accent sounded kinda funny and you could have been anyone. I didn't know who you were!" you grinned as you started eating your entrees.

You both again went home, basked in each others company for the rest of the evening.

Sunday was incredible, the atmosphere of race day was always amazing. You walked through, many people coming up to you asking for autographs as a celebrity of your own. They were mainly young girls also looking at getting in horse-riding that looked up to you.

Daniel ended the race with a podium. P2, after Max and Carlos crashed into each other, Lando also got his first win and honestly you felt like a proud mum watching your boys on the podium.

Many tears were shed as you watched the boys get their trophies and celebrate their wins with champagne.

Even though it was a stressful week, having Daniel by your side even if it was for only an hour of the day in the darkness it made it all the better.

y/user

Liked by danielricciardo, texaslonghorns and visacashapprb

y/user: Whose more Texan me or Daniel?

Tagged One Person

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danielricciardo: i love that dress on you, gorgeous girl <3

-> y/user: thank you baby!

danielricciardo: I'm more cowboy than you, also!

-> y/user: i disagree

texaslonghorns: no-one can beat out cowgirl queen

visacashapprb: Austin next round, Ricciardo for the win. Our Cowboy!

-> fan1: Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!

-> danielricciardo: Oi! Oi! Oi!

Instagram Story Caption:

The love of my life in Texan Sunset <3

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo f1 #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #dr3 fluff

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overseer-picard · 7 months

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As a real life horse girl, I present:

Starfleet Captains as Different Kinds of Horse Girls

The actual canonical horse girls:

Kirk: The Show Off. Kirk is genuinely a great rider with soft hands and a good seat, but due to this high skill level and his natural disposition, he can be overconfident and do dumb things that result in injury and/or (according to McCoy) death. He loves a flashy horse with high chrome (white markings) to match his own dashing looks.

Picard: The Spiritual. Picard seeks connection with his horse, who he sees as an equal, and hones his skill-set as a rider to maximize this communication. Riding is a relaxing, emotionally cleansing activity for him that centers his mind. He has this quote stamped into his saddle: "When you first meet a horse, his instinct tells him you are a predator. Gain his trust, and you become his protector."

Pike: The Cowboy. Pike's horse is his companion and he rides to reconnect with the past when times were simpler. Not picky with breeds or looks, he’s content with his fuzzy Quarter Horse. He relishes the freedom of open skies and endless plains, the solid earth beneath him keeping him grounded.

NOT canonical horse girls (but could be if they just believed):

Janeway: The Competitor. Dressage, cross country, show jumping, she does them all. Hair slicked back, jodhpurs tight, boots polished, Janeway enters the ring to win. And she does. She chooses horses that have the same fire and intensity that she does and together they are an unbeatable team.

Sisko: The Polo Player. Ball is life, even on a horse. Sisko's team of competitive polo ponies are trained to a tee. He relishes the intensity of the game, the teamwork, and the difficulty of the hand-eye coordination. Winning isn't as important as the thrill of not dying.

Archer: The horseless. Archer is the kid you knew in middle school who was obsessed with horses and knew everything about them but never had one. Instead, he settled with pretending his dog was a horse. I cannot emphasize enough how much this man oozes naive horse girl energy.

Freeman: The Rehabilitator. Freeman rode competitively when she was younger but now has found a great sense of purpose in seeking out the broken and forgotten horses. She focuses on the "dangerous and un-fixable" off-the-track thoroughbreds and rehabilitates them to become their best selves.

*I do not know enough about the various Disco captains to have thoughts on them but Saru has actual horse energy.

#Star Trek #Kirk #picard #sisko #janeway #pike #archer #freeman #horse girls

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ride4thebrand · 1 month

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It's been a rough week, but we're ok.

#horse #horses #ottb #horse riding #off the track thoroughbred #thoroughbred

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cowboydisaster · 11 months

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Lobo

reupload; originally posted on 14 february, 2023

read part two here

pairing: werewolf!Arthur Morgan x reader

word count: 5.2k

summary: You're on the run, hiding from the law. One night, your dog runs into the woods and comes upon a poor creature stuck in a bear trap. This isn't just some normal wolf... His eyes are the color of the ocean and he seems to understand you. The wolf continues to visit you, shifting back and forward between man and beast. He offers you his name, and eventually his heart.

a/n: this was originally a submission for the rdr events valentines exchange! This was my first ever werewolf fic and I was hella intimidated by it, but it was SO fun. I'm definitely down to do a part two if that's something people want. Let me know! Important things to know about this fic because everyone writes werewolves differently: - A werewolf's eyes glow red when they have found their mate, and after they've found their mate, their eyes glow red during very emotional/vulnerable moments. - A mating bite is just a way for the bond to seal between the two. It can be given by one or both parties -Arthur is a fully normal human being, aside from the fact that he can shift to a wolf. -Werewolves can shift between human and wolf at any time in this fic, not just on a full moon - The full moon makes a werewolf more primal. i.e. wanting to run, wanting to stay shifted as a wolf. It also makes the wolves more drawn to their mates and more protective

also as a little warning I am not well versed in werewolf lore, so if anything in this fic is way far off I apologize.

fic is below the cutoff

Your stallion's hooves slosh in the mud as you canter, riding towards a little area near Valentine that you’re planning to camp at for the night. The moon is full tonight, resting high in the sky and casting the night in an eerie, pale glow with dark shifting shadows. For the last few weeks you've been on the run, sleeping under the stars or in abandoned houses and buildings as you drift further and further away from Saint Denis. It wasn't your fault really. The man you killed? Well he deserved it. But every action has consequences… You’ve been drifting since it happened, never staying in one place too long. Parts of you miss your old life, the structure of society and sleeping in a bed. But the freedom that your current life offers is unmatched.

You've made it all the way up to the cliffs now. It would probably be safe to stick around, surely you're far enough away by now. But an itch under your skin urges you to keep running, to get far away so that they will never find you. Pushing the doubts out of your mind, you whistle, and hear a bark in answer from your Australian Shepherd, Marley. He's running beside your black thoroughbred, Ares, just as eager as you to set up camp for the night.

After some convincing that the law won't find you this far north, you slow Ares down to a trot, passing by a lightly wooded area along the train tracks. Beyond the trees is a small opening. It's big enough for you to comfortably set up a little camp, but wooded enough to protect you from the near constant drabble of rainfall, and more importantly any wandering eyes from the tracks. You deem the spot safe for the night, whistling for Marley to follow as you trot through the treeline.

It's been a tough few weeks. Your clothes have been growing a little looser around your frame, and your little stash of money from your father’s savings has depleted to nothing. You don't know how to hunt, you're from the city. With no means to get food, your options have depleted to two: steal or starve. There's already a bounty on your head and you don't plan on increasing it, but you know what they say about desperation. Twice now you've stolen saddlebags off of tethered horses in search of food or money. You've rationed your supplies enough to get you this far, but now? Well you're pretty well screwed.

Hopping down from Ares with a pat of gratitude, you reach into one of the stolen saddlebags in search of something useful. Something soft touches your hand, and you pull out some clothes. There's two shirts and two pairs of jeans. With a sigh, you shove the clothes back into the bag. They're of no use. They're way too big for you, but maybe you can repurpose the cloth later. You step around Ares’ backside to reach into the other side of the bag. Luckily, you find two pieces of salted beef.

“Well, we got dinner, boy.” You smile, tossing one up into the air and watching as Marley catches it in his mouth.

You don't have a tent, never got one after escaping Saint Denis, and you don't have a bedroll either. So as per usual, you opt to find shelter under a large oak tree, laying on your saddle blanket and resting your head on your saddle in the dirt. It makes a decent pillow, and it provides Ares with some relief for the night. After finishing your dinner, you eye your boys. Ares is lying in the grassy patch ahead of you, enjoying the subtle rainfall after a long day’s run, and Marley curls up in the grass at your side.

“Don't worry boys, we’ll find somewhere more permanent soon, alright?” You whisper to them, almost drifting to sleep. You try to stay awake to watch the night. The moon is so full, so bright, unlike any night you’ve seen before. It's equally beautiful and mysterious. The grass dances in the breeze, shining under the moon’s white light while being tapped by slow sprinkling rain. Your eyes slip shut… and Marley barks.

You know Marley. He’s your best friend, and Marley only barks at danger. Immediately you sit up on the saddle blanket, gripping the handle of your knife out of instinct.

“What is it boy?” You whisper, scanning the treeline to no avail. Ares has stood up, and is whinnnying, stomping his feet and tossing his head in trepidation.

Every hair on the dog’s back is standing straight up, and he bares his teeth towards the eastern side of the forest with a low growl. Your brows knit together, as you see no lights or signs of anything.

“Marley, what's the matter?” You coo, reaching out to calm the dog, but he's too quick. He barks, and takes off into the east side of the forest.

“Shit, Marley!” You yell after the dog.

With a sigh, you run over to Ares, not even bothering to put the saddle back on. You sit on him bareback, quickly urging the stallion into the forest after your dog. It's difficult to navigate the dark forest, but Ares needs no guidance as he weaves around trees and jumps over fallen logs after your dog. You have to hang on for dear life as he jumps a particularly large log, as it's much harder to sit without the aid of your saddle. Slowing Ares down to a slow trot, you stick two fingers on your lip and whistle as loud as you can. It's too dark to see anything, and the rain has picked up, soaking your hair and causing rivulets of water to drip into your eyes and drench your clothes.

You hear his returning bark, and you spur Ares in the direction of the familiar sound. After cantering around a few more trees, you spot Marley. He’s cowering on the ground, shaking with his head on the ground in submission. At first you’re afraid he’s been hurt, and you jump down from your stallion to approach the dog.

“Marley…?” You whisper, slowly approaching him.

The breath leaves your lungs when you hear it; The loudest howl you have ever heard. It’s mangled and painful, and so, so close. Your heart beats rapidly, time slows, and you can feel the moment its eyes are on you. Slowly, you turn around.

In front of you is the largest wolf you have ever seen in your life. Well, you’ve never seen a wolf other than in the paper but this wolf- there's something different. It’s a male, surely the alpha of his pack, if he has one. He has a sandy blonde coat, broad head and shoulders, and even standing on all fours, the wolf is almost as tall as you. But the most stark detail is his eyes. They are bright, a green-blue mixture that can be compared to the blend of the tide and the sky. There’s something so human about his gaze that you’re almost knocked to the ground by its strength. The wolf’s eyes are locked onto your own, and it tries to step towards you, but stops suddenly and cries out in pain. Your eyebrows draw together, and you step around the right side of the massive wolf. His eyes stay on yours, and suddenly you feel no fear. It’s like you’re supposed to be here, you're supposed to find him. It causes your breath to hitch in your throat, and a dull pressure to buzz in your chest, but you ignore it, continuing your observation of the animal.

“Oh, you poor thing.” You whisper under your breath upon the sight of his mangled, bloody back leg. It's caught in a particularly nasty bear trap, who knows how long he’s been stuck here. You eye the wolf carefully for a moment, and when you sense no aggression, you step forward. The trap is a pressure lock, and you can dismantle it with your bare hands. Determined, you wipe your hands on your jeans.

“Alright, now I’m gonna set you free, but you can't eat me, okay?”

You swear the wolf chortles at your comment, and you lean down in the mud, pressing down on the bear trap with all your might. It clicks a few times, meaning that it’s close to opening. You stop pushing the trap and gasp in shock when you feel the wolf press his nose into your waist, inhaling deeply as if he is savoring your scent. You stutter, and quickly continue pressing down on the trap until it fully snaps open. The wolf takes one full deep breath of your scent, and then throws his head up towards the full moon and howls. It's so loud that your ears almost hurt, but it's not nearly as strong as the pressure in your chest, the unfamiliar buzz that is threatening to rip you in two. You clutch at your rib, gasping in shock when the wolf brings his head back down to look into your eyes. The wolf’s blue irises have been replaced with two deep crimson circles that stare back at you. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can hear it. But just as quickly as you found him, he is gone. He turned tail and ran, limping away on three legs. You’re left in shock, mouth agape, sitting against the wet forest floor.

— two weeks later —

You search through the bottom of the same leather bag that you’ve checked three times, foolishly hoping to find some food for you and Marley. You need to find something soon, or you’re going to have to venture into town, which may or may not end up with your neck in a noose. With a sigh, you toss the bag on the ground by your campfire. Tears threaten to fall as you pet your shepherd dog, apologizing for the lack of dinner. Ares is already laying in the grass, and you decide to hit the hay as well. Like every night, Marley curls up beside you while you try to fall asleep. His steady breathing, and eventually his snores almost lull you to sleep, but you’ve been having trouble sleeping. For the past two weeks all you’ve been able to think about is him. You know what he is now, you remember the stories that your Pa used to tell you. The legends of beasts in the west, far more dangerous than the outlaws inhabiting it. Well, they weren’t just stories. You think of him every night, wondering why he ran, why he’s this far east in the first place. Tonight is no different, in fact the ache in your ribcage is especially strong tonight. You’ve felt it ever since that night.

Eventually, you’re able to quiet your mind, blinking foggily as sleep overtakes your senses. Just as your eyes begin to flutter shut, two blue circles blink from behind the treeline, and then you fall asleep.

— the next day —

The evening sun wakes you up, surprisingly warm despite the cold day. The light filters through the trees, casting your face in a yellow glow. You'd slept almost the entire day, but you needed it. You haven't been sleeping well, too busy thinking of the wolf. You yawn, sitting up and stretching your arms before checking for your boys. Marley is chewing on a stick beside the charcoal left over from the campfire, and Ares has his head to the ground, grazing on some fresh grass. As you go to stand up, something fiery red catches your eyes and you snap your neck in its direction. About five feet away from your makeshift bedroll is a fox. It's been killed, perfectly hunted in such a manner that the pelt is in perfect condition. With your brows drawn together, you lean over and pick up the fox. Two neat, large canine teeth marks have punctured the animal's neck.

This was him.

You're overcome with relief at the fact that he's okay. After he'd run off you weren't sure where he went, or if he had a pack, and someone to fix his wound. You've been thinking about the man for weeks, wondering what he looks like, sounds and acts like, what his name is. Quickly you pull out your hunting knife, taking your time to skin the animal neatly. Every cut is articulate, something you learned from working for the trapper in Saint Denis. You know how to clean, cut and cook an animal, just not how to actually hunt one. You rest the red pelt fur down against the dirt to dry, and then get to work on your fire. Marley brings you back enough twigs and sticks to get a fire going, and before long you're placing nice cuts of meat over the fire, cooking a decent meal for the first time in a while. Marley seems grateful as well, coming over to the campfire to check on the food with his mouth watering.

It's a good breakfast, well dinner. You don't have much to season the meat with, but a few pieces of oregano manage just fine. You and Marley share the fox, saving the rest of it for the following days. With the day pretty much over before you've even started it, you pull out your journal.

Ever since that night in the woods, I feel this ache. It's like a rope. I don't understand it much, but… it's pulling me to him. I know it is. He left me a fox- first good meal we've had in a day. That's gotta mean something, right?

Your fountain pen stops on the paper, and some ink pools out of it, leaving an ink blot. Your eyes widen at the sound of a twig snapping, and the feeling in your ribs intensifies. You carefully close the leather journal, setting it down on the ground before pulling your knees up to your chin and smiling.

"Come out. I know you're here." You call out boldly, standing up from the ground and facing the forest in the direction of the snap. You can feel eyes on you, but you can't pinpoint his exact location. Behind you, Ares begins to spook, pawing at the ground and snorting in irritation. Marley growls, and you follow his gaze until you see the wolf.

He's even more beautiful in the daylight. Now you can really see the contrasts in his coat color, like brindle between tan and brown. His eyes are just as striking without the added glow from the moon, and now they shine bright blue. He steps out from the forest slowly, head down to placate you. He steps right up to you, almost eye to eye. The buzzing in your chest is so strong, like the rope is pulled so tight that it's on the verge of snapping.

"You ain't no regular wolf… I've heard the legends, but I didn't think there would be any of you this far east…"

The wolf's eyes close and he nudges his head into your side, one again inhaling your scent. You're not sure why he does it, but you don't mind. Hesitantly, you bring your hand up to the wide spot between his ears. You expected his fur to be coarse, but you're wrong. It's soft, like thick layers of silk. Your hand glides over his head, petting his ears while he leans further into you.

"Thank you for the fox." You whisper, smiling sheepishly at the familiar stranger.

Slowly, he turns around, going towards where your saddle blanket is laid out on the ground. He gently takes the serape blanket in his maw, backing up and dragging it with him until he's a bit away from you, hidden in the shadows of some trees. You watch on, confused, turning around a few times to coo to your animals. You can hear some growling, some uncomfortable joint cracking, and then to your surprise, the exasperated groan of a man. Your eyebrows dart up in surprise, and your jaw drops when he steps out of the shadows.

He's the most attractive man you've ever seen. His wolf form is a perfect match to his human form, he has tanned, sun-kissed skin, peppered with freckles. He's covering the lower half of his naked body with the blanket, but it doesn't hide his strong, chiseled chest. Clearly he takes care of himself. His build is muscular and broad. His hair is the same sandy blonde as his wolf's coat, and those eyes, they're just as beautiful now as they are as a wolf's. You don't realize that you're staring until he talks.

"You ain't afraid of me?" He questions, almost unbelieving that you haven't run away yet. His brows knit together just enough for a petite line to make itself evident on his forehead.

"No… you've been nothing but kind and you've helped me. Hell, you coulda ate me." You chuckle.

At the mention of that night, you remember the trap and his injury.

"How's your leg?" You ask. Your eyes move down his right calf and you see a freshly pink, rough scar marking the wound where only two weeks ago he was torn into. No human could ever heal that fast, it must be a werewolf thing.

"S'healed. Got fixed up in no time." He says, drawl low and deep. He moves over towards the fire and sits on the ground, you follow.

"What are you doin' out here anyway? Ain't safe, 'specially not by yourself." He inquires, making sure he's covered with the blanket as he looks to you for an answer.

You're not sure how you know, but you know that you can tell this man the truth. And yet you find yourself hesitating, so instead you rebuttal his question.

"I could ask you the same, mister." You quirk, smiling a bit as Marley trots over to sit by you.

"Well what's your name, then? Finally get to speak to ya, I should know your name." You ask.

You're shocked that somehow your manners slipped and you forgot to introduce yourself, but the introduction feels… odd. It's like you've known him for years. You tell him your name, to which he smiles, nodding his head like he approves, or is proud of it.

"My name's Arthur Morgan." He chortles. As if the situation isn't indecent enough, you just remember that you have an extra pair of larger clothes from the stolen bag that might fit Arthur perfectly.

"Oh, I have some clothes that might fit you. Don't even bother askin' how I came about these but- should be clean and hopefully your size." You say, standing up and grabbing the stolen saddlebag of clothes. Your boots squish in the wet grass as you bring the bag over to Arthur.

He takes the bag, and with no shame, drops the blanket to the ground.

Oh.

So apparently the part of his body that was earlier covered by the blanket was the best part. You can't help it, and he doesn't mind. You watch as he grabs clothes from the bag. There's a trail of soft brown hair that trickles from his chest hair and dips down to the base of his shaft. You gulp, closing your eyes and forcing yourself to look away from the absolute masterpiece that rests between his legs.

When Arthur is decent, you turn around, cheeks still flushed bright pink from shock and embarrassment. He hands the saddle bag out to you, which you take and toss back towards your saddle on the ground. Both of you glance to the west, realizing that the sun is setting and it will be dark soon.

"I better get goin'. It'll be dark soon…" Arthur whispers, as if there's something he wants to do or say but can't bring himself to. His eyes look to the ground, and he tips his head to you before turning around.

To his surprise, you grab his wrist. The tether between you two grows so strong that it hurts.

"Arthur, please don't go. Why don't you stay the night? Head back to wherever it is you go to in the morning." You practically whimper.

He doesn't even have to think, of course he'll stay, for you he will.

— four hours later —

The night is cold, very cold. The combined effect of your lack of coat and the slowly approaching winter doesn't help. You're curled into the tightest ball you can manage, hugging your knees and shivering. It's miserable, the type of cold that seeps into your bones. Arthur had shifted before laying down for the night, and you can hear his steady breathing behind you. He hasn't slept all night. You've drifted in and out of sleep, but he has stayed awake all night, watching you, protecting you, checking the perimeter a few times.

As soon as you begin to shiver, Arthur stands up. He circles you a few times, whining as if he is debating with himself over something. But as you whimper, miserable from the night's cruel nature, Arthur trots over. He lays at your back, and you practically moan at the relief. Arthur is so warm. You turn around, curling yourself into him. His fur is like the softest blanket you've ever felt, and his body radiates heat. It's cathartic.

"Why are you helpin' me? Bein' so kind?" You whisper, nuzzling your nose into his warm fur.

Arthur presses his wet nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent once again. Just like the first night you met him, the color in his eyes bleeds to red. It's beautiful, and you look into them, curious about the change of color. You can feel that tug in your chest again, it's strong tonight, but you ignore it, pressing yourself into his frame until blissful sleep finally overcomes you.

When you wake up he's gone.

— twelve days later —

Arthur… I saw him up on the ridge above my camp today. I don't know if he runs in a pack, or why in the hell he's so far east, but… he keeps an eye on me. I swear I see those green eyes just beyond the treeline when I fall asleep. I can feel his presence when he's nearby, like something is pulling me to him. I have this drive to be around him in a way that I can't explain, like I need him… but I haven't seen him since that cold night.

You steady your hand, focusing on the old oak tree ahead of you. As you exhale, you release the knife, smiling as it lands directly into the thick trunk of the oak tree.

You trod over to the tree, bending down to pick up the few knives that you've lodged into the tree, and the two that landed on the ground. Marley barks excitedly, and you turn around to find the source.

Arthur…

He steps out of the woods slowly, head held down as he approaches you in his wolf form. He's breathing heavily, as if he was running for a while to get here.

"Been wonderin' why you haven't come to see me. Had me worried some hunter had you mounted on their wall." You joke, reaching out to pet Arthur's head. His eyes slip shut, and he pushes his nose into you, almost roughly, as if he needs this like a starved man. He once again inhales your scent deeply.

It's then that you notice something in his maw. Your eyebrows knit together as you hold out your hand. He opens his mouth, dropping a rolled up piece of paper and a wooden wolf into your hand. You're confused as to why he didn't just tell you whatever it is the note says, but you don't have time to ask as he turns tail and runs away, eyes red.

"Arthur, don't go!" You cry out to no avail.

The buzz in your chest grows as he runs and you ignore the ache, looking down to the items in your hands. The little wooden wolf is beautiful. It's been hand carved from a piece of oak and a knife. Tears well in your eyes as the ache in your chest grows, and you open the note.

I'm sorry. I can't stay around you. It's hard to explain, but it's better if I leave you be. That ache in your chest, like something pulling you? I feel it too, and more than anything, I wanna be with you, but it's not fair for me to do that to you, darlin. ‐ Arthur.

Rivulets of tears run down your cheeks as you sit on the ground, hugging your knees. You've been doing research, stopping into libraries to read books on legends of western wolves and lycanthropes. You've learned how they used to run in large packs, how they were hunted almost to extinction. But most importantly, you learned about their mates.

They can't choose their mates, instead they are pulled together by the moon. You think over the feeling in your chest, how many times you've written about the invisible tether that pulls the two of you to each other.

Is Arthur your mate…?

And if he is, why is he leaving you?

— two weeks later —

The moon is full tonight, and all you can think of is Arthur. You know he'll be out running tonight, and you hope that he comes by. You haven't seen him in weeks, and it's only made your ache to be around him stronger. Maybe the moon will alter his control, drive him to come see you. You’ve been stopping in at libraries in town, sneaking just enough to hide your face from the passerbys. Every book on lycanthropes that you've been able to find has been thoroughly analyzed. You know why he’s hiding. And dammit, if he would just come back you could convince him to stay. You rest a stray leaf in between the pages of your book to mark your page before setting it down on the ground. Marley trots over and you chuckle as he lays down on your bedroll.

It's late, past midnight as you stand up and start to dress down for the night. You’re not worried about wandering eyes, it's dark, and anyone who steps foot in your camp to look will be met with a bullet. You strip your jeans and shirt, standing bare in the grassy opening. You run your fingers through your hair, before reaching onto the ground for a clean shirt. Just as you go to grab the cloth, you hear it. A low, deep, growl resonates from the forest, it’s him. Through the opening in the trees you can see glowing red eyes, and relief washes over you. His crimson orbs are locked into the little wooden wolf that is tied around your neck.

“I know why you left, Arthur, why you think it would be best for me.” You whisper, extending your hand out as Arthur steps out from the woods slowly. His paws are massive, expertly stepping over the terrain as he inches forward.

“I've been reading and learning about wolves… I'm your mate, aren't I?” You say, barely above a whisper. Arthur leans in and licks your collarbone lightly. His eyes are so beautiful, deep red like roses.

“I feel it all the time. It’s like a tether, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You sigh as Arthur just stands there, listening to what you’re saying.

“Be great if I could hear what you’re thinkin’.” You bite a little, irritated that you are always talking but can never hear him.

You watch as he shifts. It's a fluid movement, much more graceful than you would have expected, and in just a few moments he is standing in front of you. His eyes have returned to their soft blue, and you lean in to press your hand against his cheek. Both of you are completely bare before the other, and yet neither of you are uncomfortable. He looks to you with a question.

“You would tie yourself, you would mate to a stranger?” He asks, eyes glowing red for just a moment on the latter half of the sentence. You chuckle at his misconception. Arthur gently takes your wrist in his hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the tender skin on the inside of your wrist. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your throat.

“Arthur, you’re not a stranger,” you chuckle, “In this time I’ve known you, you've shown me your character time and time again. I was hungry, cold, alone, and now I’m not.”

You both feel a buzz of electricity run through you, and Arthur groans deeply as he wraps his hands around your soft waist.

“Arthur, I- I need something, but I don’t know what it is. Please-” You moan against him, the tether clouding your mind. He presses his lips to your forehead, gently kissing down your temples.

“I know what you’re feelin’ and I can make it better, but darlin’ you know how this works, right?” He asks, squeezing your hips a little. Something comes over you and you can't feel anything but him, you need him.

“I want to be yours, Arthur.” You mewl, pressing your nose into his chest. Arthur growls so deep, it breaks you out of your trance for a moment. His blue eyes lock onto yours.

“You look at me. Don’t let the bond fog your head, you want this?” He asks, gripping you tightly.

“Yes.” You whisper with more clarity than you’ve ever felt. For the first time in your life, you feel at home. This is where you should be, what you are meant for.

He’s yours

Arthur’s eyes remain locked onto yours as he lifts your wrist up to his lips. Your breath quickens in anticipation as he gently bites down on the side of your wrist.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Suddenly you are whole. You are part of something bigger, you are with him. His other half. Your souls are permanently bonded and you can feel him all around you. You gasp at the raw emotion of it all. The tether between you and him pulls even tighter for a moment before it snaps and releases. There is no need for it anymore, as you are one. Tears fall down your cheeks as you lean up to kiss Arthur. Everything is right when your lips crash together. He moves against you as emotions sweep through you like a wave, crashing and swirling together.

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