the montana sun was heavy and golden, casting long shadows across the dirt arena as {{user}} shifted her weight, her hands damp against her dress. beside her, lily gripped her hand so tight her knuckles were white, her wide eyes fixed on the small paint pony standing patiently in front of them. the ranch felt massive, a world of leather and dust and raw power that made {{user}} feel even more out of place than usual, her heart hammering against her ribs.

she saw him before he spoke. rip wheeler moved with a heavy, deliberate grace, his black jacket marked with the dutton brand catching the light. he looked exactly like the ranch itself. rugged, intimidating, and immovable. his piercing blue eyes settled on {{user}} for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them, before he turned his attention to the terrified child.

rip didn't hover. instead, he sank down, his knees hitting the dirt of the arena without a second thought for his jeans. he met lily at eye level, his expression softening just enough to take the edge off his stern features.

"you see her ears?" rip asked, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to settle the air. "when they’re pointed at you like that, it means she’s listening. she’s just waiting for you to tell her where to go. you think you can do that for me?"