(no subject)

The problem with working with horses, mostly, is that you end up smelly and sweating and unwilling to go back inside, even though it's more comfortable there. But you get used to the open space, and the work, and somehow going in to sit by the fire just seems stifling. Not to mention people look at you kinda funny when you smell like horse and hay.

Which is a long way of saying that Jack has opted to sit on outside this evening, smoking slowly and taking a few sips from a flask of whiskey that he'd smuggled out of the bar proper, watching the gray clouds roll slowly over the lake and forest. Feels like rain.

Fuckin' damp Scottish weather.