Roman scowled. She couldn't be serious - this is how she wanted them to spend the weekend? He loathed his mom's stupid garden. Nothing ever went right when working it. Now she's adding cattle into the mix?

"No thanks." he declared as if he had a choice.

Beside him, a curious monkey that refused to stay inside his Poke Ball poked the boots. "Groo?" Grookey's head tilted, eyes moving between Roman and Willow.

"I'd rather spend the day with Adelaide and her saggy tits." fidgety hands found their way into his pockets. "What's the point anyways? I'm just gonna fuck it up." You know, like he did everything.

willow atkins

☉

willow reaches up to one of the vases sitting next to the "mud room" (which was more just like a mud doorstep). she plucks a stem of honeysuckle and rips off a couple of petals, sprinkling them on the floor to distract roman's grookey so he can get his boots on. she's happy he's found a grass type to liken to, but grookey can be mischievous little things. 

"don't talk about adelaide's tits like that," she says and scrunches her nose. "or anyone's tits."

she plucks another couple of stems and pretends to ponder his words. it won't do to say anything more to him. no amount of you're not a fuck-up is going to right the wrong he feels. so instead she shucks up her shirt and shows him her ribs. 

her entire left side is a sickly green and purple. "i messed up, too. thought our new buddy cowslip didn't see me coming when i was bringing him some hay, but lo and behold."

she winks. "don't worry. i won't let him get ya though."

Roman Maher

☉

Grookey's easy to distract. The second the petals start to fall, he tries whacking them with his stick. Whatever's going on between Willow and Roman is all but forgotten. Probably for the best, D.K. got the impression things were about to get tense.

"What?" Roman frowned, "It's not my fault her tits sag." practically dangled down to the floor. He gagged. So gross, made him want to vomit the longer he thought about it. Good thing mom's here to steer his overactive imagination back on course.

He stared, emerald hues glued to the gnarly bruise on his mother's ribs. "Wow." she'd been walking around with that thing all day? Damn. Roman didn't give mom enough credit for her strength. "That's wicked." is it bad he wants to touch it?

"Can I touch it?" he hadn't meant to ask aloud, but the question slipped free regardless.

willow atkins

☉

and as expected, roman's impressed. if it didn't hurt so dang much, willow might've been impressed too. she's just lucky the tauros hadn't hit her head on - she could have cracked a rib or worse. 

she keeps holding up the hem of her shirt and then shrugs. "if you want. it's gonna feel like normal skin. just be gentle, 'kay?" she'd rather him get fixated on her bruises than adelaide's chest. seriously, where the hell does he learn this kind of stuff? 

she'll have to have a chat with bo about it. 

"and i know it looks cool, but it hurts. and it coulda been a lot worse if i wasn't careful. these tauros, they're no joke, so i'm trusting you to listen to me when we're out there."

Roman Maher

☉

That one-track mind of Roman's kicked in, and he stopped listening after getting the okay. Carefully, he reached out to touch the bruise. You'd think for someone used to getting their fair share of bumps. He'd know there be no difference from normal skin. But his imagination didn't care, planting the idea that the bruise would feel like a scab or squishy in his thoughts.

He pressed gently into mom's side and frowned. "Fuck, that sucks. I thought for sure that it be gross." Oh well, at least she'd let him touch it.

Arm dropping to his side, Roman looked at the boots he'd been ignoring and the dark bush of his brow furrowed. In seconds, he went from present to somewhere else entirely. Emerald waters formerly calm in their resolve grew turbulent.

Mom's trying. The least he could do was attempt to meet her halfway and not be so difficult. Roman kneeled, a hefty sigh escaping his lungs. "Okay." In silence, he untied and removed his shoes. Tossing the shoes aside, he shoved his feet into the boots and laced them up.

"I'll be careful, I promise." he stood, ready to meet the Tauros.

willow atkins

☉

she gives him a look when he drops a curse, but doesn't comment on it. she's never had a firm hand, really, and instead of scolding him, she thinks, should i just get us a swear jar? 

while roman's busy getting his boots on, she tucks her shirt back into her jeans and buttons on her flannel. it's a bit nippy outside, but really she just wants to make sure her clothes are secure. she'd been serious when she said dealing with the tauros are no joke. the bruise is partly because her unzipped jacket had gotten caught on part of the fence. 

he stands straight while she drops to the ground and gives the laces of his an experimental tug. they hold fast and she smiles with something close to pride. she stands, ruffles his hair, and then taps his back to lead him out the door. 

the tauros graze at some of the weeds poking through the cold dirt of their pen. they raise their heads as willow and roman approach. cowslip snorts and steam from the wintry air curls from his nostrils. willow's dreading the day when it gets cold enough she'll have to cinch blankets on them.

"alright," she says. "cowslip's the meaner of the two. he still hasn't let me touch him yet. buckwheat's getting better, but the two of 'em like to rile each other up." she reaches to grab the pitchfork leaning against the stable while she talks. 

"do you wanna distract 'em or bring the hay into the pen?" 

Roman Maher

☉

"Hey!" Roman complained, "Don't ruffle my hair." it made him feel like a child. Granted, he was one, but that's beside the point. Grumbling under his breath, he made his way out the door.

Part of him expected the Tauros to be bigger. Not that they were small or anything but the way mom talked about them, you'd think they were giants. "Cowslip and Buckwheat?" nose and brow scrunched at the names, "What lame names, mom." he'd have to come up with better ones.

"Uh.." carrying hay sounded boring. Roman wanted to do the fun task. "I'll distract them."

willow atkins

☉

a sigh of relief escapes her. she'd phrased it in such a way hoping he'd pick the less 'work-like' task. as good of a lesson it might be to throw him to the wolves (figuratively speaking, because these are bulls), she'd rather not watch her son get maimed by a rowdy tauros. 

"if you paid attention to me when i talked to you about the language of flowers, you'd think their names are much cooler," she says blithely. besides, she happens to like their names.

she hefts the pitchfork and grunts as she shoves it as deep into the haystack as it'll go. 

"alright. go on the other side of the pen and try to get their attention. try to piss them off, but if they charge, you better be as far away from that fence as possible." at least he'll be out there and not inside like she. odds are roman'll do just fine pissing them off and they'll be plenty distracted for her to shovel what she needs to in there. 

Roman Maher

☉

His eyes rolled, "It's not my fault flowers are boring." and they didn't do anything cool either. At least the ones he'd seen his mother plant. Flowers didn't matter right now, anyway. There were Tauros to distract.

Roman couldn't wait to get started. The excitement turned mom's instructions into static, but he wouldn't have listened anyway. The best troublemakers got up close and personal after all.

"C'mere, Longhorn and Beefpatty." he heckled, slipping into the pen. Roman wasn't entirely stupid. He did hang close to the edge of the fence.

How best to mess with these dumb bulls? Be himself, he imagined. Roman stuck out his tongue. "You call yourself Tauros? You like more like a pair of Miltank to me."

Grookey stared at Roman from the ground, confused but wanting to play as well. He clambered onto Roman's shoulder. Mimicking his trainer, D.K. stuck out his tongue and bellowed, TAUNTING the Tauros.

Between the two of them, they'd definitely get their attention.

willow atkins

☉

she frowns and resists the urge to reply they're not boring, but that's an endless loop of disappointment if there ever was one. one day he'll understand. one day he'll do more than roll his eyes at the pressed flowers she leaves for him, at the choices she makes when she sets up little pots on his windowsill. 

lost in her thoughts and thinking about flowers, it's a couple beats too late when she realizes roman has slipped into the pen, exactly like she'd told him not to do. 

gretchen, sitting on one of the posts, stops licking one of her paws to watch the boy. after all his torment with that dog of his, her eyes gleam with a certain satisfaction when the tauros take their eyes off willow. 

at first, the tauros don't quite respond. they're proud creatures and they don't exactly see roman as a threat. it's just enough, though, for willow to lift the latch to their pen and carry a bucket of water over to refill their trough. 

then gretchen hisses. D.K.'s taunt had worked on more than just the tauros. the glameow darts forward, hissing and spitting. even hazelnut, her greedent, leaves one of its berries behind to make for the dancing monkey. 

cowslip and buckwheat stamp the ground, nostrils flaring. 

"roman, stop! make D.K. stop!"

Roman Maher

☉