WHO: Edgard and YOU WHAT:One Job, and some opens WHEN: NOW WHERE: various places NOTES:Goat herding hijinks closed to whoever gets there first i guess (run!), everything else open! All in comments. Wildcards also welcome.
Edgard notes the glance between them, there doesn't seem to be much difference from before. Edgard relaxes a little and then attempts to change the subject,
"Do we know if this is going to one farm or multiple?"
One would be easier, so it probably isn't likely. He leads his mare a little to the outside to stop a goat who's trying to break from the group.
"I thought it was just the one," Athessa answers, though she isn't putting the idea of punching Edgard in the face fully out of her mind just yet. A few choice whistles keep her side of the herd in check.
"If it's more, their shepherds will need to be the ones to break them out accordingly in any case."
What do any of them know of brands or notched ears or whatever is done to little beasts to keep them straight from another as they wander around shared grazing?
With a press of heels, he urges the mare a further forward so that they might begin to bow the herd in the direction of the little roadway they'd left.
Edgard hangs back to keep the back of the herd in check while Marcoulf moves them forward towards the road.
"I think we might be the shepherds in this scenario, but I guess the town will figure it out." He calls back. "all good so long as we don't run into a creek or bear or something."
Edgard smiles to himself, rarely have his jobs gone without multiple disasters.
Athessa makes a thoroughly Marcoulf-like face, staring directly into some unseen camera ahead of her.
Is this what it used to be like to work with her? Perish the thought.
The herd bows, curving from the grass to the road and following along it with nary an incident. Once in a while a goat would start to separate from its brethren, only to be efficiently told via whistle or nudge or otherwise to get back where you came from or so help me.
And that's how it goes right up until the farm comes into view as they crest a rolling hill, topped with a sparse copse of trees. Idyllic, one might think. A lovely spot for a picnic if two Orlesians and an elf weren't driving goats right past it.
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"Do we know if this is going to one farm or multiple?"
One would be easier, so it probably isn't likely. He leads his mare a little to the outside to stop a goat who's trying to break from the group.
no subject
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What do any of them know of brands or notched ears or whatever is done to little beasts to keep them straight from another as they wander around shared grazing?
With a press of heels, he urges the mare a further forward so that they might begin to bow the herd in the direction of the little roadway they'd left.
no subject
"I think we might be the shepherds in this scenario, but I guess the town will figure it out." He calls back. "all good so long as we don't run into a creek or bear or something."
Edgard smiles to himself, rarely have his jobs gone without multiple disasters.
no subject
Is this what it used to be like to work with her? Perish the thought.
The herd bows, curving from the grass to the road and following along it with nary an incident. Once in a while a goat would start to separate from its brethren, only to be efficiently told via whistle or nudge or otherwise to get back where you came from or so help me.
And that's how it goes right up until the farm comes into view as they crest a rolling hill, topped with a sparse copse of trees. Idyllic, one might think. A lovely spot for a picnic if two Orlesians and an elf weren't driving goats right past it.