bearbones ☾

---

David had been taking a stroll along the border, saddle training Oasis. He wasn't riding her now, holding onto her reins and just walking with her. Her head reared back suddenly, making the man gasp and hold onto her reins tighter. She exhaled sharply through her nose, turning her attention to the big man. He hesitated his grip on her reins, but she relaxed and snorted.

"Right..." He spoke softly.

Oasis resumed walking with him, her giant hooves leaving dust clouds with every step. She wasn't used to wearing a saddle or having reins on, or even the bit in her mouth. She turned her head and whinnied when she sensed a stranger near by, and turned sharply, causing David to stumble with the sudden turn and he lost grip of the rein, trying to catch himself before he fell over. She was quite strong, even for him.

Oasis' whinnies turned alarmed, head raising and her lip lifting as she stomped her hooves. David dusted himself off and grabbed her reins, reaching up to brush his hand on her nose to relax her. The draftie looked down at him and bucked her head, avoiding the man. It was then David saw why she got defensive. A stranger--a kid, more likely, just older than his own daughter--was arriving just on the horizon.

"Hello there," David greeted, his voice loud enough to be heard, instead of him having to yell. "What are you doing out here?" He asked as he neared the kid despite the horse's nips of protest on his shirt.

---

---

---

David sat with his hands on his thighs, head tilted down, motionless for a while. His hands were trembling in his lap, coming together to wring his fingers. He felt awful, worse than he had since he lost his daughter. His fingers pulled a strand of hair from his face, pulling it behind his ear. He didn't even notice he was being followed, so hearing Brock's voice made the man whirl around, hands shooting to the ground to keep him stable as he swung his body, going from sitting on his legs to having one knee on the ground, the other raised like he was kneeling in proposal.

Except he was kneeling to run, if need be. For some reason, the man thought that this was bad, and that Brock was going to be mad -- a lot of things David found himself doing made him feel anxious about Brock's ideals. Possibly it was because the man was just so imposing. The big man's chest fell and rose rapidly, albeit subtly. His eyes studied the man for a second, hanging on to every word, before he relaxed, shoulders slumping and his other knee hitting the ground all too roughly to not have hurt. His broad shoulders shook for a moment, and his hand came up to his face to wipe across his cheek.

"It's been... twelve years," he spoke so softly, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

David turned his attention to Roman when he noticed the young man standing there, and he nodded to him as he wiped at his face with the collar of his shirt. He couldn't let these people see him cry, he couldn't let anyone see. He felt almost embarrassed to have them see him in such a state. He rubbed his legs, breathing through his mouth before a look of near-aggression crossed his face at the question. As soon as it came, it disappeared, instead being replaced by a look of longing. Of a lost wanderer, almost. He inhaled shakily.

While David thought the question was harsh, he could not put blame on Roman. David was the same sometimes, finding himself being more blunt than he meant to, and instead of being angry -- he would have been at any other person at this time, he thought, simply because of Roman's hierarchy -- he nodded to the man. He brushed his brown hair from his face with a shaking hand that, no matter how much he tried, could not be steeled.

"I had a fiance, once," he started out slow, finally looking up at Roman, "probably hard to believe, right? Well, she was... the best. She's Roxanne's mom."

---

---

---

David ran his hand up and down her snout, softly talking to her for a moment longer until he heard Jamie. He turned his attention to him, voice going abruptly quiet. He glanced back at the massive horse, who had turned her careful attention to Jamie and, by extension, Paisley. She snorted and lowered her head to eat at the grass by David's feet. Her mane was tangled, twigs broken and stuck within the frizzy hair. The feathering at her feet shared the same fate, gone fizzy and tangled.

David nodded as he studied the mare, she was gorgeous, her front legs had dark feathering, her back with light, and her mane was a dark grey. Distantly, David wondered if her hair was a different colour like his own under dirt and whatever else might be stuck to it. She had light freckles across her flanks. She would look really pretty after a nice wash, he thought.

"I think I will keep her," he nodded as he studied the mare.

She was obviously not starving, but she was hungry, greedily picking up the grass blades and even slightly pushing David out of the way to get at the ones he was standing on. He reached up to rub the back of his neck as he looked back at Jamie and Paisley, then turned his attention to the fence with guilt on his face.

Although he did not break it, he still felt bad. "I'll fix the fence, too."

---

---

---

David wasn't really up for having a walk around, but he figured he'd finally pull his weight around for once. So he took a walk, looking for somewhere to help out. He'd been in the gardens often lately, helping with the vegetables, and decided to try his luck at anything else he may be somehow good at.

And that landed him at the stables.

The giant man loomed in the doorway of the barn for a moment, looking out into the field to notice a blonde girl and a horse. He headed towards her, hands coming up in his chest to ring his fingers together as he inched closer. It was obvious he was anxious meeting someone new, but he sucked in a breath and stood a bit away.

"Hi," he spoke briskly, voice harsher than he meant. "Ah, sorry. Hello. I- uh, I'm David." He didn't offer his hand to shake yet, as his pale brown eyes were on the horse.

David wasn't quite a fan of horses, as he feared of accidentally hurting one. His brown hair was a right mess; he didn't have time to comb it out this morning, and he didn't mind it a knotty, wavy mess anyway. He didn't like his hair being tugged at. The big man turned his attention to Annalise for a moment, as if he had just registered she was there.

"What's yours? I- uhm, I don't believe we've, y'know, uh, met. Before."

---

---

---

He could tell he was being studied but he didn't care, he wanted to see his baby again. He didn't hesitate as he followed Roman, trying to force himself to slow down his wide steps as he followed the shorter man. He was buzzing with all sorts of emotions -- excitement, worry, anger, apprehension, skeptic, he couldn't quite place just one and stick with it. He wanted to see her so bad. He wanted to run, to find her, but he knew better than to just trail off from Roman. So, he flapped his hands near his chest as he followed.

Of course, David saw Brock first. The man wasn't hard to find in a crowd. He stuck out pretty easily, especially when he's feared by the person viewing him. Then a thought came: was he in trouble? Did they use his daughter as a way to bait him into an area where they'd be able to hurt him? Was this a trap? He slowed down for a moment, wanting to turn and run. He felt fear bubbling more and more, his hands fanning faster.

But then he saw her.

All his worry immediately disappeared and he stopped in is tracks for a solid moment. Was it really her? She looked so much older, so mature. She looked just like him, with her mother's fiery hair and wild eyes. She seemed to see him at the same time and he wanted to cry. She looked so grown-up. So strong and independent. He saw her walk towards him, and he jerked in his step for a second.

"Baby? That you?" He asked, his voice so frail before he broke into a quick run.

David never cried in front of people. He always kept it to himself, but tears pricked at his pale eyes as he rushed across the small area and picked Roxanne up in his giant arms. He was sobbing by now, holding her tight. His giant hand screwed into her hair, holding the back of her head, his arms swallowing her body against his own. He was falling apart, lips shaking, as he held onto his baby again.

"I missed you so much," he hiccuped.

---

---

---

The big man's chuckle was low and deep, and he reached an arm up and rubbed at a tired eye. "And miss a night like this? I think I can manage just a few more minutes." David smiled at them, then looked back up at the sky with his hands behind him to support himself.

He watched the sky, thinking to himself for a moment. He tapped his fingers on the ground as he thought about how the busy streets he was so used to clouded the wonderful view he was seeing now. He glanced between Eben and Jamie for a moment, feeling so old compared to the two. He was sure Eben was the same age -- if not older, but something about being the one about to doze off at any second made him feel like he had aged a billion years in the past hour. Jamie's young age definitely didn't do anything to help. He smiled, just slightly.

Tonight was a good night, he thought to himself.

"Perfect for marshmallows for sure."

---

---

---

David had often spent his days in the garden, helping with the fruits, mostly. He was there now, though this time he slowly rose to his feet and wiped his brow. His arms were covered in a thick layer of sweat and dirt, and he knew he'd need to wash soon. He squinted up at the sky--it was so hot out, the sun didn't seem to let up--and he couldn't wait for the evening to roll around. The man wrung out the collar of his shirt, the sweat that had been collecting ran between his calloused hands. He shook them after and wiped them down on his front before stepping out for a moment to get a drink.

The man stopped at the water pump and cupped his hand under it and pushed his face into his palms to wipe the sweat off his face. He wandered down the road, humming to himself as he fanned his grey shirt, fanning his hands to stim while he walked. He liked busying himself while he walked, and stimming was great for that. David brushed his hair from his face with one of his hands, using the very tips of his fingers to push the long strands behind an ear. From there, he made his way to the saloon.

David usually ordered milk or water from the counter, and this time he chose water. He leaned against the wall instead of sitting down and sipped at the cup, crossing his ankles and strapping one arm across his broad chest. At least it wasn't crowded in the saloon at this hour; usually everyone was too busy working. There were a few people crowded around the table, but other than that, David was on his own. He felt relieved for that.

The man put the cup down and slid over some change, thanking the bartender for the water and he left. He stepped out into the hot air again and exhaled through parted lips. He was not one for heat, that's for sure.

---

---