Ozai knows he's got a problem when he hears the ringing squeal from across the fair.
In the middle of the dusty corral, the wolf-stallion is fighting its handlers like a mad thing, eyes rolling and hackles spiked. It's clearly meant for the bronc-riding contest, and he watches dispassionately as the beast rears skyward, shaking men off its reigns with a howl.
His wife is leaning against the fence without care for her fancy dress, fan flicked open in the summer heat. Her eyes spark with mischief.
"I want that one, love," Ursa says, and Ozai sighs as he checks the pockets of his fine waistcoat.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-07-16 06:14 pm (UTC)Ozai knows he's got a problem when he hears the ringing squeal from across the fair.
In the middle of the dusty corral, the wolf-stallion is fighting its handlers like a mad thing, eyes rolling and hackles spiked. It's clearly meant for the bronc-riding contest, and he watches dispassionately as the beast rears skyward, shaking men off its reigns with a howl.
His wife is leaning against the fence without care for her fancy dress, fan flicked open in the summer heat. Her eyes spark with mischief.
"I want that one, love," Ursa says, and Ozai sighs as he checks the pockets of his fine waistcoat.