─── 𐚁 ''role. the lost soul_'_location. farm --> market_'_mentions. naiah_'_tags. --
- When living that classic life of a rancher, Wyatt didn’t need to set an alarm clock. His bedroom was perfectly aligned with the sun’s schedule, sunlight eagerly flooding the room by five in the morning almost daily. And if the sun didn’t arrive, well, the animals had their own personal timers they’d set off if Wyatt was even just a minute too late. Today was no different. From a distance, he could hear the impatient bleating sounding from his singular goat – the smallest of the bunch, excluding the chickens, and yet, the loudest. Wyatt appreciated all of his herd, but goats were truly something else. They took dramatic to the next level. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, Wyatt lingered under the comforts of his blanket for another second or two, then promptly removed himself from the bed to start his day.
The house was quiet, almost eerily so. The wooden floorboards creaked underneath him as he moved towards the front of his bungalow. Bonnie, his keen black-and-white border collie, preferred to sleep out in the barn the moment the temperatures began to steadily climb, so without her trotting about, things felt even emptier. He grabbed a banana, shrugged on his thin barn coat, and left the building. The warm spring air welcomed him cordially, filled with the faintest hints of fresh hay and musk. Ironically enough, Wyatt had nasty allergies to pollen, so it was unsurprising when two steps out the door, he sensed that irritatingly familiar tickle in his nose. Brushing his hand across his nose, as if that would magically kill the itch, Wyatt continued onward, approaching the barn within just a few more steps.
Bonnie was quick to greet him with an excited yip, curling her body as if forming an awkward C shape as she wagged her tail and tucked her chin towards her chest. Wyatt gave a little chuckle. “’Morning, Bon Bon,” he acknowledged in return, giving her backside a good scratch. She was covered in bits of hay chaff, which wasn’t much of a surprise to him. He was sure there would be a Bonnie-sized nest made, where the cats would likely bound over to now that she was no longer sleeping there. Sure enough, when he yanked the sliding doors open, two of the barn cats were snuggled up against the round bales. The hens were clucking impatiently from the other side of the barn, squawking with irritation to get let out of the coop. Running a small farm on his own was a lot of work. Wyatt loved being on the farm, that went without a doubt, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do this solo if he had a full-time job elsewhere. Thankfully most of his money came from the farm, whether that be because of leasing, meat, or even his collaborations with those seamstresses who were eager to get their hands on the sheep’s wool. It was a business his former city colleagues found odd, but then again, unless one lived the country life, it was odd to fully comprehend.
Wyatt moved further into the barn, greeting the goat and the small herd of sheep that were all doing laps around their pen, very vocally expressing their hunger. It’s as if I haven’t fed you in years. He also knew they weren’t thrilled to be inside; their outside pen was in the process of being renovated, which meant he couldn’t risk keeping them in there unattended. The last thing he needed was for a neighbour to make an angry comment about a small cluster of chatty sheep on their lawn. He went into the feed area, scooping up their grain before dumping it into their shared trough. Silence immediately consumed them; after a few seconds, all that could be heard was the peaceful sound of content crunching.
The horses were next. The horses and cows remained outside almost all the time. The cows did, at least. They came and went. Most of the horses preferred the outdoors, too. Wyatt didn’t blame them. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest bit when he made his way toward the paddock and noticed almost all of them were munching happily in the distance. Only Goose, this year’s yearling, and his mother Clement lingered closer; Goose had without a doubt been bugging the others.
“You causing trouble?” he voiced aloud, glancing at the young grey equine as he began to fill up the nearest water bucket. “Mom’s giving you a time-out?” At that moment, his instincts told him to take a picture of the sheepish look Goose seemed to be wearing and send it to Naiah, but he stopped himself. The two had rekindled their friendship to some degree a few years back, but it still felt weird to reach out to her. One second of wrong timing and Jem could be the one around her phone when Wyatt’s message lit up her screen. He usually let her contact him first, as tough as that was on him at times. It was the only way of knowing that she was the one completely aware of who was messaging her at that given moment.
Sighing under his breath, Wyatt finished filling up the buckets, then placed the hose back where it hung up on the side of the barn. By the time he was done handling all the animals, he knew the market would soon be open. Early mornings were the easiest time to fill up on grain and whatever else he needed for that week. Whistling for Bonnie to come, Wyatt left the barn and headed back inside to grab his cowboy hat, wallet, and keys. “Want to come on a car ride with me?” he asked her, knowing all too well it would trigger the yippy alarm system within her. And sure enough, she barked at the word ‘car’ and took off towards the front door, nearly colliding with it. One of the many nice things about Moonstone Creek was how many animal-friendly places there were. Everyone who knew Wyatt knew Bonnie; she had been with him since a puppy and absolutely had attachment issues. And he loved her for it. “Alright, Bon, let’s go.”
He pushed the door open, allowing her the freedom to sprint outside and towards his truck as he locked up. Slipping the hat over his hair, Wyatt picked up the pace and followed his collie towards the truck. He unlocked the vehicle, opening the passenger seat so that she could hop in, then shut it and made his way over to the driver’s side. Without further hesitation, he started the truck and headed off towards the market.
