See Ichabod Work [Boogie + open]

[jagger]

Having unloaded the gigantic roan mare from the trailer already - the sundowner, already a bit small for her, groaned in response as the mare left inside shifted her weight - Ichabod whistled, calling Jake over to him. Looping the leadline, he handed it nonchalantly to the dog and pointed to the open round pen nearest. "Pen her." He asked, as if asking a chum to deposit his horse for him rather than a dog. The cattle dog was a quick study and although Domi's, Ichabod had taken great delight in proving his quickness by teaching him a few talents in these last few days. The little red dog flipped his ears forward and obediently took the lead, tugging on it roughly to get the Clydesdale moving and taking off at a slow jog toward the round pen. Bubby - confused mildly for a second - followed after another sharp tug from the dog. Ichabod chuckled. Quick learner.

Reaching inside to pat Boogie's rump lightly in reassurance, he apologized to the Appy - he enjoyed speaking with animals, they were much easier than people. "Sorry. Two seconds love." And turned to shut the gate for Jake and Bubby. Next he'd need to teach the dog to close fences. Easy enough, really. Having finished his task with Bubby now rolling cheerfully in the arena dust, Ichabod headed back to the trailer with Jake on his heels. Reaching the trailer, he stepped up inside to swing the partition over, stepping to the mare's head to untye her quick knot. Jake moved to stand directly behind the mare, just outside the trailer. Ichabod huffed.

Pointing beyond the dog, he kissed. "Back up, Jacob." At the sound of a proper name, the quick little dog immediately jumped up; left his post and ran backward to flop in a shady spot a yard off. Satisfied at this relocation, Ichabod returned to the task at hand, gathering her lead. With a gentle pat, he clucked, tapping her chest. "Back up, Mama." He requested, waiting for her to dismount the trailer completely before stepping out as well.

[rain]

One would learn quickly that Boogie was not the patient type by nature. If anything, having to share traveling accomodations with a wide-load beast of a draft mare left her rather insulted. Drama queen. Prima donna. High maintenance. Take your pick. That and she hogged her side of the trailer simply because she was larger than life. Turning her head to look over her shoulder as the mega-mare was unloaded, Boogie snorted in disgust, tossing her head impatiently. Not long after the tantrum began, she alternated stomping her forehooves, then took to kicking the floor wit her rears. Fussy much? You bet. Whites now rolling, she opened her jaw and hollared out through the trailer. She was by no means herd sour, just pissed she was second choice.

When Ichabod was up in the trailer, Boogie barely waited for the command and once she saw the knot was free, she was immediately scrambling off the trailer with quick determination. She narrowly missed stepping all over the pup at the back of the trailer, the echoes reverberating in a rambunctious caucophany before silencing when all four feet were finally off. Standing squarely at the mouth of the trailer now, steel shoes scraping against the caliche, she stared up at Ichabod with a disapproving expression and finally huffed in one of those "about damn time!" statements. Mahogany tail snapping against her flanks in subdued irritation, she held her disgruntled gaze for a moment longer before finally looking around the area to take in the new environment.


~*~


Strolling out of the smaller barn, having abandoned her personal office at the sound of approaching tires, Domi sauntered to the mouth of the barn, lifting her arms up over her head in a luxurious stretch before letting them fall to her sides. She looked out and gazed upon the same truck that had brought Invader Zim back into her life just a few days prior. She wrinkled her nose for a brief moment, leaning against the broad doorway as she watched with a perturbed look on her face. Was her dog leading that one-ton animal into her arena? When the hell had he learned that? Of course, how could she forget? Ichabod loved those little tricks. Whether it was training her dog to lead a horse or the cat to use the toilet (even flush), he always found a way to get under her skin. 'Get your own damn circus pet.' The growl rolled behind her forehead with a resonance that left her skin rosy, but she kept it to herself.

Watching as the second mare clambered out of the trailer all too eagerly, she finally chuckled and shoved away from the frame work to sashay down the cement ramp and into the drive. Approaching the trailer, she whipped her head around the rear to sneer at the tall Indian Patty as she clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Well, well, well..." Eyeing the App for a moment appreciatively, having always had a soft spot in her heart for spotties, she cast a glance back to the now barrel-rolling Clydesdale who was flat-out broadside in the divet she had dug into the sand. She didn't dislike draft-types, she just had no use for them. Slow and clunky, they took U-turns instead of pivots and rarely held a consistant pace faster than your carriage trot. She could at least admit they were lovely to look at. "Odd couple."

[jagger]

Ichabod patted the pissy Appy on the neck firmly, rubbing her crest with one hand as he allowed her to have a nice long look around - not in any hurry to put her up for the night; and he had a feeling she wasn't exactly thrilled to be back in a stall anytime soon anyway. Throwing a disinterested glance at his ex-wife, he leaned into the Appaloosa. "See, that's Domi. She owns the ranch, and she's kind of a dynamo in bed."

Plastering a thick, sweet grin on his face, he nodded toward Bubby as the Clydesdale was trying - somewhat unsuccessfully - to haul herself to her feet. "Bubby's not staying. I'm fostering her until she's sold. Jake likes her." No lie, the dog did like the big mare - but then it was hard not to like Bubby or vice verse. Rubbing a hand over Boogie's broad neck again as more reassurance to his own unsettled soul than hers; he leaned on her, legs crossed at the ankle as he stood. Motioning to the mare at hand, he shrugged. "This is the permanent resident. Boogieland Bonanza.. Boogie or Bonnie.. pick one."

Having barely finished his sentence, a pissed off and extremely feline growl sounded from inside the truck, two furry arms swiping at the air outside the cracked window with ultimate insistence - the gremlin noises sounding less feline and more alien the longer Ichabod waited to acknowledge them. Rolling his eyes, he tossed the leadrope to Domi and meandered to the cab, popping the door open and allowing Silas to hop out. With a quick, gracious little 'mow', the 18-lb cat padded to stand behind him, rubbing against his legs briefly before remembering himself and acting, once again, aloof.

"Oh. Yeah. And that's Silas." He nudged the cat with his foot. The bobtailed, leggy feline simply stared at him, unimpressed. After a second, his vivid yellow gaze flicked to stare at Domi.

[rain]

Domi could only roll her eyes as her ears picked up his sardonic statement. Classic Ichabod. Like the horse wanted to know about their past sexual endeavors as if it truly mattered to the Appaloosa's existance. Just another one of his passive-aggressive attempts at getting under her skin. Successful, but noted for what it was regardless. Once the occular roundabout was completed, she keyed into his continuance and looks upon the Appaloosa again. She loved registered names, they were so telling, and this one's was no different. "Boogie...toooo Britches...toooo Whistle Britches. Which means Keeno, Waggoner, and Mansfields Comanche. Direct descendant of Patches." This was her thinking out loud. She knew far too much about her spotties. "Colorado Ranger, too." That was directed more to the mare, who's lead was now surprisingly in her the palm of her hands. So much for paying attention, apparently she was a bit spacey today. Had she eaten breakfast?

Realizing she was no longer directly within Ichabod's presence, she tracked her gaze back to the lanky thorn-in-her-side. Domi surveyed Ichabod as he opened the cab to allow the feline an exit. Immediately, her already dismal expression sank further and she stared down the cat with a mild frown. Clearly, she wasn't the cat-type. Her brow irked in a fake attempt at seeming interested when she was introduced, half surprised to see that the cat wasn't taking for the hills. Despite his innate urge towards prey drive for his breed, Domi had lucked out with Jake. He continued to lay in his spot, uninterested in the cat that was now wrapping himself around his owner's ankles. She couldn't help but see the mare in her hands trampling the feline with enthusiasm, and furthermore couldn't help the smile that slipped past her resolve and spread her features. Eh, should he survive living on the ranch, at least he'd be good for barn mice.

Hearing a strained grunt, Domi snapped her attention to the massive roan who vocalized her strain as she pulled herself to her feet. It was followed by a long series of attempts to clear the sand from her nostrils and shortly after, the draft mare's head drooped lower than her withers, bottom lip dangling with enough drop to make it comparable to a pelican's pouch. Chuckling, Domi dropped her arms over the mare's neck as she leaned her torso against the broad shoulder and hooked her chin over the mare's crest. "Fostering, huh? Good luck getting her sold. Not many drovers around here." Of course, she could have other uses, but the most feasable to Domi was one hitched to a cart. While she had always imagined having what would be considered an "Appaloosa Sport Horse" out of a Clyde mare, she knew it was an impractical whimsy. What would she do with such a beast? She didn't jump, didn't drive, and the thing would be too big to course a balloon map well enough. Yes, that was one of those "in the shoebox" ideas that while sounding nice, served no real purpose to her.

[jagger]

Ichabod eyed Domi suspiciously, sniffing slightly as he retrieved the leadrope from her and gathered it into a neat bundle in the palm of one hand. "You okay, darlin'? You're off your game." She had said nothing negative about himself, his horse, or his cat - and he had expected zingers on all accounts. Mild concern - completely unmocking and sincere - washed his long jaw, hooking an arm around her waist to tug her along for a second as he headed off in the direction of the barns. He held her for a three beat step and then released, his version of a hug and that was about all there was to it.

"SILAS." Ichy snapped, and the Pixiebob immediately left his post to jog after his master, the annoying little bell on his collar tinkling lightly as he spryly kept up. Falling into pace at a quick, long-striding walk, he easily kept pace with Ichabod and the spotted mare - a distance enough away to avoid feet, should Boogie decide to act out. He was, as all felines generally are, intelligent. Annoying, but intelligent. Aloof, but intelligent. Independent and stubborn.... but intelligent. Reaching the barns, Ichabod tugged the dappled mare along as they entered the cooler shedrow. "Stay, Silas." He requested, holding a hand back at the cat. After a half-step, the cat shot him a wounded look and flopped in the shade, staring down the aisleway at his retreating figure.

Moving silently down the aisleway to the pre-prepared large box; with it's open adjoining paddock and ample shavings; he slid the door open and waited for the mare to take her cue to enter. Sliding the door shut behind them, he unbuckled her halter and tossed it over the edge of the half-door, patting her neck firmly and turning to check both water and feed - he had filled them prior - but Ichabod was neurotic and tended to obsess a bit over his horses. Finding everything in order, he leaned against the stall door, watching the big mare in his possession quietly.

[rain]

Damn him. Why is it their marriage failed when they could be so in-tune with one another? Honestly, it made her stomach turn a tad knowing that he could read her so well. Then again, he was right. She wasn't on the ball today in the wit department. She was becoming slightly concerned she was hypoglycemic or something to that effect. Or, maybe she should force her busy-body to make time for breakfast. Either way, she was falling behind and it was showing. The former, she could tolerate, it was the latter that she hated. Always the strong, independent type - never to show any weakness. Being slow, that was a major weakness for her. She even didn't put up a fight to being snugged into his arm, following along with him obediently as they progressed for the public barn. The heels of her boots scuffed the caliche along the way, her gaze dropped to watch the small, white flurry of dust that kicked up in her wake. She was feeling rather 9-years-old again, definitely a sign for sustenance.

Once they had stepped into the barn, she broke away from them to dive into the office and attack the fridge that was primarily used to store injectables. However, she had also made it a point to keep it stocked with a 12-pack of coca colas, one of which was snatched out and popped open. On top of the fridge, she retrieved a strawberry Nutrigrain bar out of the box and upon collapsing into the lounge sofa, tore into it much like a gorilla with a fresh banana. The view from the sofa led out through the office door and half-way down the expansive aisle. The barn was new and still smelled of lumber and paint with a hint of pine shavings. Shoving a bite into her cheek, she chewed methodically in a manner akin to that of a heifer chewing cud and watched as Ichabod deposited his new ward. She had to hand it to him, he'd picked a pony of her fancy.

~*~

Boogie had shuffled along in tow with a modicum of compliancy, though her eyes and ears were in constant rotation as she sought to find the feline of her focus. Somehow, he knowingly stayed out of her physical reach, even when she tested the waters by dancing out to the side at one point. She snorted indignantly, but left her chase alone as they entered the barn. She plodded alongside the pair, head up as she surveyed the new barn. To her, they looked like all the others, really. Some were big, some were small - they were all boxes, that was it.

Once released inside, she squired out the back of the stall and into the adjoining pen, prancing frantically back and forth as she sought to find a next door neighbor to antagonize. No such luck. Upon finding that she was ultimately alone on her side of the barn, she dropped a mottled muzzle to the ground and began to sort out the numerous scents left behind by whatever had passed through that area. She was much like the Beagle of the horse world, constantly smelling everything in her path to determine whether it was benign or worthy of an ass-kicking. Satisfied there was nothing of real consequence to be further investigated, she meandered into the box again and sought out the tall man who had brought her here. Finding him still in the box, she pretended to ignore him as she investigated the water and feed in that order. She dunked her face into the bucket first, blowing a few bubbles before sucking in a mouthful just to rinse her mouth out. Nosing into the feed bin now, she did nothing to taste except leave a thick mustache of grain along her muzzle, now soaking up the water left on her face. Turning back and approaching him, she rudely thrust her nose into his face to inhale sharply and document his scent as well for further use, while at the same time slobbering him with saliva and sweet feed.

[jagger]

With a groan, Ichabod scratches the spotty face with affection; his minor disgruntlement at being slimey-fied plastered all over his face. He wasn't an overly clean person; grinning and bearing it was sort of a necessary requirement of his job - blood, sweat, feces; worst yet -- birthing fluids -- but in a former life he supposed he must have been a neat freak, given how he preferred to take care of his clothing. That, of course, didn't mean any of his clothes were new or even expensive; he shopped at Goodwill and Wal-Mart with the rest of the rednecks and he was happy to do so.

Rubbing her ears lightly, he popped his head out the hallway to peer into the office, noting Domi's vacant stare back down the aisleway as she masticated that sort of granola bar - nutrigrain perhaps - with a method-like madness. "Okie dokie, Mama, enjoy your food. I've got an ex-wife to bother." He patted the wide neck lightly and fluffed her feed a bit before stepping into the aisleway and closing the door behind him. He buckled the latch and slid the bars shut. "Enjoy your paddock for awhile. Be back in a bit."

Heading down the aisle, he popped the fridge open, broke the Ten Commandments of Domi by stealing one of her cokes, and flopped on the couch next to her, draping one long arm over her shoulders and popping his coke open with one hand. "So would we like to share what's bothering us today?" He paused, then held the can up. "I'll give you eighty-five cents later, quit growling." His arm remained polite, fingers to themselves.

[rain]

Lost in a space-cadet-like wave of thought, Domi was currently oblivious to the vast world around her. Eyes open, unblinking, she continued her methodical chewing as she let all that needed to be dumped from her brain pour out behind her eyes and filter through her frontal lobe. There was so much to do and the place was bleeding money. Her account only had so much life to it and her pay from Bar B was only enough to pay on interest for the smaller barn. This was one of the few things bothering her, she'd spent the last few days running numbers and was stuck in throes of worry regarding her estate's longevity. It wasn't until the lanky frame of her ex-husband past in front of her that she seemed to snap back into reality. Blinking in a mildly stupid fashion, she cut her gaze to the side just as he plopped down beside her and took it upon himself...to...touch...her. She rolled her shoulders in mild annoyance, though knew full well it would do nothing to deter him from the contact.

Swallowing her bite, she irked an eyebrow at him and scoffed a moment, tonguing through her teeth to dislodge any residual fruit bar before speaking. "Share, possibly. With you, no thanks." The last thing she needed was Ichabod's insight into running her business. There was nothing to run when there wasn't business. Sure, she had some theories on cutting back costs, but utilities were something she couldn't really scrimp on. Vehicle and trailer maintenance was another. While she had a hay field, it would be some time before she could make use of it, so she was stuck ordering her hay by the truck-load and that had been a hefty cost. Thankfully, with minimal animals on the property, she wouldn't go through it too quickly and she had it set up in an area that wouldn't mold so she wasn't concerned about losing any so long as it stayed dry.

Bracing on his knee to push to her feet, Domi chucked the wrapper into the garbage can and found the nearest corner to press her shoulder into it and began to scratch in bear-like fashion. Looking out into the barn from the doorway, she sighed and stopped her scratching but continued to lean against the corner. "I need to ride." Then she remembered she had no ready-to-saddle mount of her own, Ravage was still incredibly green and she had yet to even really start working him. "I need to get out to the auctions again and see what's new." She resolved herself she needed to do a lot of things but she couldn't make them happen all at once. Another of Domi's downfalls - impatience. She had it in droves. Looking back to her former partner, she crossed a toe over her ankle and shoved her hands into the pockets of her Lawmans. "How's the guest house working for you?"

[jagger]

Rolling his eyes as she sniped and jerked to her feet, he let her go with no protest, taking the time to stretch out on the sofa and survey the situation carefully. Obviously she was out of it - which was unlike Domi, she was generally sharp as a tack. It wasn't him - well, it was always him, but never him; they needed each other. Water and Oil, they needed each other to stay in their proper places.

Ichabod watched her with an eyebrow raised, amused at her aggressive I Don't Care attitude - it was all a crock of shit, he was positive of that; something was bothering her. Given the nature of the ranch, probably money. She had that tense air about her, and it reeked of bookkeeping issues. Swallowing a mouthful of carbonated beverage, he watched her with one eye, otherwise focusing his gaze on his feet. "Guest house is fine. Do you need to rent it out? I can move." He wasn't sure to where - he had an idea but he knew suggesting the main house would just piss her off. Not in the mood to do such, he scratched the back of his neck, glancing up at her briefly.

"Well, if you need anything, you can always let me know." He pushed himself roughly to his feet and shoved past her, vaguely annoyed he had even attempted to regain some of their former selves. Setting the half-empty coke on top of the fridge, he strode out the door and was half down the aisle before he allowed himself to breathe again. Why was he angry? He mused this idea to himself. It wasn't as if he and Domi had any other sort of relationship; if she wasn't her usual sarcastic self - which was fun, generally - he thought she was being a sap, and yet.. for some reason he felt he needed to protect her. Passing by his mare on the way out, he threw her a satisfied glance that she was otherwise alright, and whistled for Silas.

The doglike cat padded after him, throwing a dirty look back at Domi. Cats. The drag queens of the animal world. Who loves kitty?

[rain]

Snaking a brow upwards at his negative response to her own negativity, Domi's heart flipped once or twice once she realized she had set him off now, too. Great, she was perpetuating the "misery loves company" adage. Suddenly feeling a strong pang of guilt, she groaned and trudged out of the office with her shoulders hunched and arms dangling. Yes, she was in 9-year-old mode all the sudden. Meandering after him, she raised a hand and waved him down. "Ichy, waaaiiit..." She sidled up to him and immediately flopped onto his shoulder. She sighed heavily, staring back down the barn at the Appaloosa who was now peering through her stall at them.

"Ichy...can I ride your pony?" The statement came out before she could acknowledge the fact the inuendo would most likely leave Ichabod running rampant now that she was showing a better side of herself. So, she quickly stuck a finger in his face and gave him a mock glare. "The mare, not 'your' pony." But somehow, she knew it wouldn't keep him from making some kind of inappropriate comment. Sighing, she stared up at him in an 'I dare you?' fashion. She felt it coming, it was like a ticking time bomb and she had stupidly left the door wide open for him to go bounding through.

[jagger]

Both furry eyebrows cocked sideways as she approached him in ultra-pathetic fashion, he allowed himself to be flopped on, staring down at her with a deadpanned "What?" Habitually, his arm found the groove over her shoulders, spine sagging slightly onto her as well. What? he had a long body, it was tiresome holding that godzilla figure upright. He smirked down at her comment, blinking rapidly as he flipped through all of the possible reactions. There was the classic That's what she said; the overly mature Only if we go bareback.. and the ever hilarious knee-slapper The Bologna Pony. He opted for none of the above, winging it.

"Well, "Aae", don't you have your own pony? And "Bee", you know you want to." He smirked again, turning her to steer her back toward the barn, silent for a a yard or two before picking up the previous conversation. "Domeena, tell me what's up." He poked her sides, holding her against him as he tormented her.

[rain]

It was an honest-to-goodness fact that Domi could only go so long being a stubborn wench. She would put up a good fight, but eventually her resolve would dissipate and she'd crater to Ichabod. It was one of the things that destroyed their marriage, she was easily manipulated while manipulating. They both had acknowledged their relationship was a volatile one, too centered on mind-fucking each other than truly nurturing each other's needs. So, acknowledging that all she was doing was continuing the mindless do-se-do of stubborn resistance, she sighed heavily and kowtowed. "Eh, this place is leaking money like a sieve. I can float for a bit, but something's gotta change soon." Disengaging from his grasp, her fingers wrapped around the bars of the stall as she reached a slender hand through to rub the mare's face gently. The App huffed at the intrusion, her ears swiveling back a moment in frustration as she jerked away from her reach.

The act caused Domi to chuckle aloud and break out of her funk. God she loved Assaloosas. They could be such pissants. Usually it was all bark, which she found rather endearing. Without waiting for approval, she snatched up the halter lying in front of the stall and dove in, quick to lock her arms around the mare's neck, who promptly began to move away in frustration only to find the human leach was still attached to her shoulder. After making a full 360 degree turn, the mare surrendered and stood with her head hung in defeat. The brunette chuckled and shook the mare's neck in between her arms with a firm movement. Casting a glance out to Ichabod through the open stall door, Domi plastered on her innocently coy face and rested her cheek against the mare's withers. "Come ride with us? I know that blue beast has to be worth something if it can tote a cat around."

[jagger]

Shrugging as she tore loose, he picked up Bubby's massive halter, shuffling down the aisleway to retrieve the Clydesdale. A trail ride would do the young mare good; and him as well. It had been awhile since he'd been able to relax. "Well.. start pimping this place out. Train for profit, advertise for boarding - get your name out there and win a few competitions. Anonymity is the death of a ranch." He spoke plainly; these were things they both knew.

Haltering Bubby, he clucked, listening to the boom of her footsteps as she followed him politely. She had no saddle; he had no intention of paying for a custom made one - instead, she had come with a bareback pad and a hackamore. She, luckily, was a very easy mare to ride - and even harder to fall off of considering that mile-wide back of hers. Given her height, this was no "swing up" horse - even Ichabod couldn't jump that high. Crosstying the giant, he quickly wiped down her already clean coat with a rag, tossing the grooming equipment aside and grabbing the bareback pad he had cast aside earlier. Throwing it up onto her withers, he made quick work cinching her up.

Silas had found his way back into the barn, ignoring the Appaloosa with a distinct air of authority and instead moving to safer waters, perching on an empty stall door as Ichabod worked. Sliding the halter off, he wrestled the giant head into her hackamore, waiting for Domi and Boogie. "Hurry up, woman."

[rain]

Boogie decided to turn obnoxious and threw her head as high as possible while Domi argued with her for haltering. Grumbling at the spotted wench, Domi's patience had run its course and she displayed it by subtly jamming an elbow into the mare's shoulder with a low snarl for only the mare to hear. Boogie's red ears pivoted sharply towards her and for a brief moment, she let her head drop in indecision. That was all the time Domi needed and the nylon was quickly brought over her muzzle, fingers flashing the buckle into place over her poll. Lead still attached, she took hold a few inches down from the bull-clasp and led the bitchy horse out into the aisle.

Domi made quick work at the doorway to her tack room, brushing off the mottled coat with a dandy before snatching up her newest purchase that she had yet to try out. The halter was quickly replaced with the new sidepull, browband fished over her ears and the throatlatched quickly buckled. One thick, white cotton rein was tied to hitch-clips and hooked onto both rings before flipping it over the mare's head. Boogie huffed in slight shock at the fast work, but didn't make much more fuss over the matter. Rounding the mare at all four corners in quick-fashion, Domi prodded the mare into cooperation for cleaning her feet, ignoring the smack to her head with an irritated tail. It came with the territory for this breed. Notorious jerks.

Satisfied she was in ready order, Domi looked over Boogie and decided it had been far too long since she had gone sans saddle and realized she was aching for sore thighs. So, grabbing a fist-full of mane with one hand, rein in the other, she made a quick bounce before scrambling up and onto the mare as they stood in the barn. The Appaloosa was almost just too tall for her to make it, but she managed despite the grace factor. Boogie, for a moment, considered taking her for a ride before the leggy brunette had made it up and over, but decided it would be a waste of energy. Not much room to get a decent amount of air, anyway. Surprisingly, she stood stock still, ears swiveling backwards more for listening purposes. Looking upon the lanky duo before them, Domi tilted her head and snickered at them. "I'm tired of waiting on you."

[jagger]

Kicking the wide foot beneath him lightly, the large blue mare lifted her leg high. Kicking off of the nearest wall, Ichabod bounced off her foot and swung up, landing halfway with his heel hooked onto her hip. She shifted sideways, mildly annoyed by this boot in the ass, and he scrambled to haul himself upright, lifting to settle just behind her withers. He sat instinctively back on his tailbone - no sense in killing the family jewels. Despite that he didn't have any desire for kids, he did in fact value his testicles. Noting Domi was on board, he heeled Bubby forward. She complied, head drooping low.

"Well, wait no longer, Princess." The endearing thought was bit out sarcastically, his drawl accenting that note of contempt. Bubby picked up a jog as they crossed the grounds toward the trail head, her heavy gait lumbering but not at all slow. There were few horses that Ichabod felt comfortable riding a trot at; even a lope bareback was rather uncomfortable given that he had particular body parts that didn't enjoy being jostled; but Bubby was the exception. He sat comfortably, hardly moving as she floated.

"You seem tense. You need to get laid." He directed this, of course, at Domi. Glancing over at her - certain the little Appaloosa could keep pace - he shrugged, cutting her off. "Not by me, of course; just a generalized statement." Not that he wasn't offering. He would enjoy that; as would Domi - he would make sure of that - but he knew it'd be awhile before she was desperate enough to rekindle anything they may have had or might have in the future. Theirs was a convoluted relationship, for damn sure.

Entering the trailhead, he brought Bubby to one side to leave room for Domi and Boogie, allowing himself to slouch slightly. The young mare was bouncy and light beneath him; glancing every which way as she took in the sights. She was, despite her rock-solidness, only a 6 year old. Six year olds of any breed were prone to moments of stupidity. Ichabod took note and kept quiet, concentrating on the feel of her beneath him. So far, so good.. as long as he didn't hit the ground he was fine.