on a steel horse I ride

The darkness of the night seemed ever blacker in those moments that followed his distinctly determined vow. That he would gather for her more than even this. He would secure more land, more cattle, more horses. He would build Risque the very empire she deserved from the earth itself if only so she might understand the very depths of his devotion- and too, that he might prove to her, to himself, that he was a far greater man then the one who had sired him. The one who had failed to provide for his wife and children. The one who had allowed them to flounder in financial ruin and with it- destroyed his own chances for further education. Clancy had determinedly damned him to a life of struggle, just as he had damned his mother to poverty and his sister to death. Darcy alone would prove him wrong. Set right the sins of the father even if it was done but centuries later. A personal goal perhaps. One deeply layered beneath the confines of his vampiric figure where the faintest touch of humanity persisted. One that remembered the past with a painful clarity. He already had more than his Father could ever have dreamed and oh-how utterly satisfying it was. More so- he had done what his father never could. He had given it to his mate, his wife. As any real man should. Risque, in turn, understood the honor of that gift as he had known she would. The vampire sitting taller within that saddle at his Mistress' offered approval of his work. Her desire to see more form him, however, was perhaps unanticipated. Risque demanding a display of cowboy skill. A notion the Southern vampire was certain he could appease all the same as his mismatched gaze found ehr own, inquiring after just what she desired to see. Darcy, as he had always been, utterly determined to do as was asked of him. To earn her praise. Her affection. Her adoration. Like no other man ever could. That consideration alone inclined to prompt that ache to his groin once more with a determined and dangerous want.

Risque seemed to consider her words for a moment. The raven-haired goddess, astride her dark horse, seemed almost thoughtful in that contemplation- before insisting she desired to see him 'hunt' a cow with a lasso. To rope the creature and bind it. The way they often did within competition. A replication of bringing in the steers for branding. One eye lifted upward in vague surprise. That Risque held interest in such a display was surprising in itself and yet he hardly found himself opposed to displaying those ranching skills. After all, no cowboy worth his leather would be incapable of roping a cow and throwing it. Those competitions were a display of prowess and speed. His own vampiric nature made such things all the easier and yet, vampire or not, ascertain skill was still required to maneuver that rope. Darcy's head bobbed in agreement, his gaze lingering upon her still.

"Alright 'den, when we get back ta da 'ouse we'll go to da pens and I'll rope summthin' for ya an hog tie it."

That request, however, so hardly seemed to be over. Risque insisted she required more. The vampiric queen demanding a display of 'cowboy dressage', Darcy's features frowning slightly in confusion. Dressage but faster? He'd seen that Dressage on the television, at the Olympic games. Lage, slow, warmbloods bred for movement and no brain and yet, he was inclined to admit there was skill in those movements. Movements designed for war. Talent to- in the hands of the riders even if such a sport was far outside his own realm of interest. The Western scene held little akin to it and yet within that arena there was surely only one sport that came even close. Performed at a far higher speed and yet with equal precision.

"Yar mean Reinin'?"

He queried. It had been years since he'd done real Reining work. Not since Seth had been a young horse and even then- it had been purely to earn those titles for the stud. To make him worth breeding too. Darcy was uninclined to ride in arenas, in front of crowds, to....show off for any save Risque herself and yet-there was every chance Seth remembered . The stallion fit enough to carry out those commands.

"Reckon I can still do it."

He remembered those routines, the work patterns, his current tack was hardly perfect and yet it would function for the purpose all the same. For now, however, there was still more of that ranch to see. The horses easily picked their way through the darkness, their hooves ringing out on the shale and loose rock as they descended downward and off the ridge and into the forest once more. Those thick trees seemed to increase the darkness, their branches obscuring the moon before they began to thin in turn, giving way to an open meadow and sweeping pastures. The horses within those fields glanced upward at their approach, several nickering a greeting before dropping their heads to graze. The vast majority within that first paddock collection of brood mares with foals at foot. This season's crop and a fine one at that. There was money in horses too. Well bred, well performed horses. The kind that won futurities and classics. The kind that made good, honest workers. The kind Darcy was already beginning to make a name for breeding. Seth having already proven a sound sire of level-headed beasts with natural cow sense. Those mares and foals seemed to range wildly in color. From bay to chestnut to grey. Palomino and dun and roan and paint. A smaller selection among them bearing truly dark, midnight black coats. A newer edition to his herd.The very coloring he knew Risque adored the most. Those foals had been named after his mate in turn.

That very colouration seemed to please her as it so often did. The vampiric Queen insisting black was truly her color before inquiring which had been named after her amongst the gathered herd. Darcy moved to gesture toward a dark bay colt and a dunalino filly toward the center of the field.

"Dat's 'Dun Be Kitten Me' and her brother 'Whip It Good'. Da black colt over dare is 'I Ain't Lion' and da other black colt is 'Risque Business'. Her, over there, the black filly, da one wit no markings at all is Purrmeditated Murder and dat one is 'Midnight Prowl' and him over there is 'Synsensational'. Ya gotta give 'em names all fancy like for showing. Named all dem after ya and tings ya like."

A momentary simper of sorts found the vampire's lips. Darcy clearly satisfied with his naming efforts for several of those colts as Risque moved to turn denim along the fence line, eyeing those foals critically before querying which was the best one amongst the group. Darcy's own gaze swept over the foals then. That decision was a distinctly hard one. The dark bay colt was undoubtedly the nicest of the colts, the all black filly by far the finest of the females-but as to which was the best. Darcy's han's lifted to gesture toward Purrmeditated Murder.

"Dat black filly. The dark bay colt is real nice too, but he's got a white sock on his front foot and a blaze. Better ta 'ave no markin's at all den 'ave uneven ones. Dem horse show people like a bitta bling but only in da right places. Day aint gonna fancy one white foot on a colt as much as an all black filly like dat- an she moves just as good as 'im. Which one did yar pick?"

Darcy nodded. Satisfied in his choice before glancing toward Risque once more, curious of her assessment. Darcy moved to shift within the saddle then, Seth easily stepping up and into a trot before gliding into an easy, loping canter. A gait Denim was equally inclined to mimic as they headed back toward the house itself- those trees gliding past now as the horses made eagerly for home. Darcy was distinctly content in having displayed that ranch to his mate. If only to prove that all he had worked on had surely been worth it. Darcy eased back in that saddle as they approached the cabin once more. Seth settled back into a walk as the cowboy headed toward one of the large yards just before the main house. Several young steers, ready for the weekends market, were nestled in the side yard that connected to a far larger sand yard. One used often for holding those market cattle. Darcy easily moved to guide Seth through the gait into the sand paddock, closing it behind him before gesturing to the smaller, connected yard with that handful of young steers.

"Go on den, open dat gate and let one of dem steers in 'ere. Yar want to see me rope one of dem dun ya?"

Darcy moved to pull back on Seth's reins, the stallion back hurriedly up to the fair fence to give that steer a fighting chance to race across the arena ahead of them. Seth, already aware of the task at hand had become almost jittery with excitement, the animal's hooves prancing in place, holding himself back beneath Darcy's hand on the reins as he snorted eagerly in anticipation.

Darcy

I'm wanted, Dead or Alive