((I'm here, haha!))
JUNE
June realized she completely disregarded her Niece Emilee's disability, turing to face the girl. Running a hand through her hair first, she thought of what she was going to say before actually signing it. Mouthing along with her hands, she wanted to make this as easy as possible for the girl. Feeling the new horse nudge her shoulder, June turned around after completing the last word, rubbing the horse on the forehead. She knew the stallion must have been not only exhausted from the long ride, but agitated at the new scents and sounds of the barn.
Handing Emilee the lead, she motioned for her to follow her towards an empty paddock not too far from where they were. Opening the gate, she let her Niece lead the horse through and let him take off towards whatever spot in the paddock he wanted. Securing the gate closed, June rested her hands on her his, her lack of sleep from the night before finally hitting her. She saw Emilee's eyes drift over her, and forced a smile to come to her face. "I'm okay." She mouthed it well enough so Emilee wouldn't have any difficulty interpreting.
BRANTLEY
Rolling his eyes, Brantley took the toy in hand, leaving his heavy belt of tools around his waist. Walking towards the front of the barn, Brant flung the toy in a neighboring pasture, disturbing a group of ducks that constantly traveled from pond to pond on the property. Watching Ronan direct his attention towards the feathered animals, Brantley hollered at the dog, waving his arms. "No! No! Bad dog!
Brantley slid under the fence and took Ronan by the collar, not scared of the rottie. He lead him away from the traumatized ducks, keeping his tone sharp to scrutinize him. "We've talked about this before, boy. I've had it with you and ducks." Reaching down by the barn, Brantley produced a chain, clipping it to Ronan's collar. He wouldn't keep him like this for the whole day, but maybe an hour. It was a doggie time out.
Wiping his forearm across his forehead, Brantley sighed loudly, needing a cold beer by now.
MILLER
Miller found himself wandering around the front of the barn, the young Colt brave for his age. He grew up with Brantley being his surrogate mother, and some of that tough guy attitude must have brushed off on him. Picking at the dollar weeds around the fence posts, Miller was pretty preoccupied. He looked up every now and then at distant noises but paid to attention.