(no subject)
It's late morning--time is getting ever harder to keep straight, but Cuthbert feels fairly certain it's not yet noon.
He's out by the paddock, perched on the fence, feeding bits of apple and carrot to the horses who wander up to him.
He doesn't know if there'll be horses, in the clearing. It's the sort of thing you never think to ask, really, until you know for sure you're going there.
He's out by the paddock, perched on the fence, feeding bits of apple and carrot to the horses who wander up to him.
He doesn't know if there'll be horses, in the clearing. It's the sort of thing you never think to ask, really, until you know for sure you're going there.