Equus Asinus

He shrugged a shoulder, getting two mugs out, and placing the sugar pot on the table. "Indirectly," he answered, tending to the kettle once it began whistling. Bringing her cup over to her, he added milk to his, and sat down with her. He leaned back in his chair, studying her intently as he cradled the cup. his hat had been abandoned on the side table, and his hair was falling about his face, having escaped the ponytail.

He accepted the silence easily, thinking through the circumstances that had led to him owning Ghost. Shaking off the memories, he focused on her again. "Breed cattle to sell the weaners, a few sheep for the same reason. Not really into the wool market, that just takes up too much time for me. Mainly it's the horses. I break, train, and give lessons. Spots stands at stud, and I often travel to shows all over the world. "

He nodded. "Yeah, campdrafting, cutting. Occasional cow roping. Used to do barrels, but that boy died a few years back. I tend to be asked for horse training demos as well, apparently I'm a wanted person in that regards."

He just lifted a shoulder, a wry grin crossing his face. "Aye, I suppose so. Sure, I'd be happy to give you some advice, but you seem to be going well with barrels as it is." Taking a few more mouthfuls of tea, he considered her question. "Well, the first one, of course. Ghost was very antsy at that one. He wasn't used to the crowds, but he handled it very well. And... I'd say the other would be a recent one, a few months ago. Placed first in all my comps, and the demo was packed to the rafters. Ghost was fantastic there."

"There's always something to improve on," he told her. "I'm still improving with Ghost every time I do some work with him. You never stop learning." He brushed off her compliment with an almost shy smile. "That was really nothing," he admitted. "Cutting was the first thing I taught Ghost, he adores it, and is always like that."

He ducked his head a little. "Been about six years in the making, that relationship. He didn't want to listen to me in the beginning. Not that I really blame him, he was scared shitless the poor bugger." Finishing off his tea, he put the kettle on again. "Want another? There's not much I've got to do today, luckily. You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

He nodded, collecting her cup as well as his. "Mmhm. The car that was towing him crashed quite badly. He was pretty shaken up, few scars. Managed to get him here alright, but it was a lot of work to get him to trust me. He still hates being floated, that's why I always take Ned as well. It helps keep him calm." There had been a reason he'd named the youngster Ghost, and it wasn't just because of his coat colour.

Julian shook his head. "No. Only Ghost did." He went quiet a moment, concentrating on making the tea. "Was my parents, nearly seven years ago now." He glanced out the window at the horse. "Called him Ghost because I reckon they're still around. Not just for his colour."

He gave her a quick grin. "Ah, I'm adjusted now. Was hard at first, of course. But I knew how to work the farm, it was just weird it being quiet." He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Surprised you didn't know. Usually the town gossips tell everyone who's a newcomer everyone else's stories." Indicating her tea, he sat down again. "Tea's there."

He gave a snort. "You'll have to get used to it here. It's the only way you'll get to know people and what's happening in many cases. Unless you want to keep sticking out as a city girl, you'll have to listen to the gossip." He leaned back with a sigh, looking up at the roof a moment. "It's mostly harmless, and them gossiping about my parents doesn't bother me now. Used to, but I was nineteen then."

He laughed. "Not just the womenfolk, sweetheart. But you're welcome any time." Catching her curious stare, he gave her a wink, a cheeky grin on his face. "Aye, twas hard. It helped when I got the foster kids, though. Gave me something else to focus on, and filled the house up a bit more. Ghost was the biggest help. He got me through that first year."

Her words made him chuckle again. "Not many appreciate it at first. I take the trouble kids," he explained, taking a mouthful of tea. "Usually they're prone to breaking the law, stealing, that sort of thing. What seems to work is me telling them they can do what they want here, as long as they follow my three rules. Teaching them to take of the animals helps as well. Haven't had a kid not want to leave yet. Many of them call this home, and often come visit."

"It can be hard," he admitted. "Some of them just don't want to talk, or they've been abused badly and are scared shitless. I simply try to coax them out of their shell. Letting them do what they want is the best thing for most of them. Most of the time it tends to be some form of art or activity, a few adore the horses." Many of the drawings on his walls had been done by his foster kids." He gave another embarrassed shrug. "Nothing really to be admired about. It's hard work, trying not to lose your temper. The boys especially are skilled at pushing buttons."