Tossin' Hay

The back of the buckboard wagon dropped as the wheels slowly came to a stop. Leather boots hit the ground, followed by one rucksack. There was a newcomer to the Mountain Valley Ranch, a tall golden scaled dragonkin with deep evergreen eyes and fiery red spiky hair that was contained under a black wide brimmed day worker hat. The newcomer looked around as the others began unloading the wagon of supplies. Grassland and prairie stretched out as far as the eye could see, only the peaks of the surrounding mountains could be seen on the horizon.

"Come on tenderfoot, we ain't here to take in the scenery." The deep and gravely voice belonged to the Head Ranch-hand Johan, an orc that towered over the young man like a mountain. The dragonkin, Toss by name, hefted his bag and one of the crates of supplies and made his way down to the bunkhouse. Once there he and the others began the process of being informed of their soon to be duties by Johan, who was standing head and shoulders over the small crowd of people.

The sound of talons on packed dirt drew the dragonkin's attention. Sitting atop a raven feathered wark was a human woman. Crimson hair peaked out from under a worn tan hat, with a few wisps peaking out and framing her face. Slate gray eyes that looked like she spent a lot of time smiling looked down at the man, a smirk tugging at the corner of a pair of perfect full red lips. Her attire was rugged yet stylish, with faded and torn jeans going well with a white and red pearl snap shirt that was just snug enough to entice the imagination. Rolled up sleeves accompanied by leather gloves that rested on the horn of the saddle as she leaned forwards to get a better look.

"Howdy boys." She said cheerily, her accent sounding very native and thick. Johan tipped his hat to her as the others followed in suit.

"Morning Boss. Was just about to break in our new ranch-hand and show him about." He said this while clapping Toss on the back. The Boss Lady raised a fine eyebrow and turned her attention back to the ranch-hand. Then she offered a hand from her perch.

"Name's Edith Marigold, and I am the proprietor of this ranch. What's your name son?"

Toss took the hand and was pleasantly surprised by the firm handshake he received. "My name's Tossyn Heigh, ma'am. But most everyone calls me Toss."

"Well then Mr. Heigh, I look forward to seeing how well you work here. The pay is good but the work is hard, and it'd be a shame to find that your youthful physique couldn't keep up with the rest of the boys here." Her grin showed no malice, but her eyes were watching and weighing his every move. Toss adjusted his hat while the rest of the ranch-hands worked, but were all listening.

"I look forward to meeting your standards ma'am."

The woman let out a laugh and pulled the reigns on her mount, turning it to the side. "Most everyone here calls me Miss Marigold or Boss, and you are free to address me as such as well. Back to work boys."

"Yes Miss Marigold." Came the chorus of voices as she trotted off. Toss let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as Johan laughed. "I think the Boss likes you. You made a good impression."

Toss glanced at him as he joined the others in retrieving the last boxes of produce and heading to the homestead. "What makes you say that?"

"If she didn't like you, she wouldn't have heckled you. The Boss is very much a Mama Bear. We take care of her needs, she takes care of us. Now come on, Miss Marigold doesn't suffer the idle."

Edith Marigold was a woman built out of rugged living, hard work, and untameable fire. Inheriting a pitiful chicken ranch from her late uncle, she'd graded life by the feathers and spent years cultivating and building the biggest wark ranch in the region, if not the continent. She was also a woman of impeccable taste.

Sitting atop her mount she watched from hill as warks grazed nearby. Down closer to the breeding pens the ranch-hands were busy hauling feed and gutting the troughs. Johan was barking orders, a massive fallen tree hefted onto his shoulder as he cleared debris from a previous nights storm. Salvador, a beast of a man and presumably a werewolf, trudged with a hay bale in one hand and two sacks of feed under his bare arms. His shirt had been discarded by the time the sun and reached high noon, sweat trickling down his back like rain down a marble sculpture. Then there was Beauregard. Thick as a boulder and strong as an ox he was shoveling fresh dirt into the pens, his shoulders working like a locomotive under the hot sun. No one knew exactly where he came from, but Edith had a hunch he was descendant from the Bear Tribe that used to roam these parts. All of them, good men and good workers.

Her eyes rested on the dragonkin. The gold scaled young man was on a heap of feed sacks, picking them up one by one and chucking them into the wark stalls. His shirt was open, the heat proving to be a bit much even for his hot blood. Sweat didn't seem to stick to him, instead turning to steam the moment it formed on his body and slid down his defined chest. An overall haze seemed to surround him, almost like those mirages one sees when the sun gets too hot. He hadn't stopped working since he was given a task, only slowing his pace when one of the homestead cooks brought out water for the ranch-hands to drink.

The red headed woman watched as he drank from a tall glass, droplets of cold water dripping from his lips and hissing against his scaly skin. She licked her lips subconsciously, tugging the reigns and urging her wark to continue its trek.

Quite a good crop this year.

She knew that the boys would work until sundown, and everyone would convene at the bunkhouse for supper. A stray thought floated through her mind like a strand of hair on the wind. Perhaps she should see to the young mans education personally.

"Mr. Heigh!" All the heads shot up from the table and turned to the voice in the doorway. Standing in all of her glory was the Lady of the Ranch herself, Edith Marigold. Despite being the shortest person in the room she wore authority and respect like a cloak, leaning cross armed in the door jam and looking directly at the new ranch-hand. A smile played at her lips as she blew a strand of crimson red hair out of her face.

"I typically let the new hires get accustomed to the workload before giving them any extra jobs. But, I need more eyes on the fields tonight. I want to make sure your first night you know the ins and outs of lookin' after my prized warks. Get your boots on, we're going for a ride."

As she left the rest of the room started chuckling, and Toss was a little confused. Brier nudged his shoulder to snap him out of his thoughts. "You'd best be going kid, the Boss Lady doesn't take well to being made to wait."

The dragonkin soon left his bunk wearing his boots and a more sturdy shirt and arrived outside. He spotted Miss Marigold sitting on her tall black feathered wark, with another sparrow feathered wark saddled up at her side. Without a word but a smile she tossed the golden scaled man the reigns and began the trek to the northern fields. Toss mounted up and quickly joined her, attempting to catch up.

Miss Marigold in turn flicked the reigns and her wark sped up, prompting Toss to give chase. The moon was cresting the mountains, it's silver light washing the valley as the two riders chased one another. Finally as Miss Marigold slowed and Toss caught up, the red headed woman turned in her saddle and faced him.

"I do love a good run. These babies are still growing and they need their exercise." She laughed and patted the wark's neck as it pecked at the grass under them. Toss chuckled and nodded, looking around at where he'd been lead. They weren't quite up in the mountains, but rather high up on a hill that gave a very good view of the surrounding ranch-lands.

"So Mr. Heigh, how much do you know about warks?" Miss Marigold's voice had an air of playfulness about it. The dragonkin scratched his neck in thought.

"Enough I suppose? They're big and rowdy, grow awful fast and make for good pack birds. Good beasts when they are tame. But, they can be dangerous. A lot of locals refer to them as Murder Chickens."

The Madame waved her hand in dismissal and scoffed as if she was offended. "Pssh. Murder chickens. These babies wouldn't hurt a fly, so long as you know how to handle them with care and respect." The woman dismounted the large bird and tied the reigns off to the saddle, motioning for Toss to do the same. After they were both on the ground, Miss Marigold gave each of the warks a pat on the rump and they took off, leaving Toss alone on a hill with the Boss Lady.

"This ranch serves multiple purposes Mr. Heigh. One obviously is the raising, cultivation, and breeding of warks." She pointed, and Toss's followed her direction. In the distance he could barely make out a massive wark on the other side of the valley, jet black feathers and a sharp looking beak. "That there is my prize bird Eagle. He's sired many an egg in this valley, and warks of his stock have made it all the way to the Eastern Continent." Eagle flicked his head before letting out a sharp cry, rallying the nearby warks as he took off across the prairie.

Toss nodded, his eyes moving slowly and watching the beasts. "I do recall speaking to the sheriff of the town. Said that he and you had an agreement of sorts."

A soft laugh came from the woman. "Indeed. I keep bandits and the nastier wildlife at bay, and the mining town gets to live stress free. Mostly."

Silence settled between the two of them as Toss watched the flock race through the glass-lands in the distance. He didn't notice how close Miss Marigold had gotten to him until he felt her hand on his abdomen. The dragonkin looked down as the shorter woman as her fingers slowly sliding up the front of his shirt.

Snap. One button came undone under her fingers.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

His shirt now hung open, with her still half pressed up against him.

"Tell me something Mr. Heigh." Edith pushed her hat back, her bright eyes looking up at him. Her hand rested on his chest, her soft fingers sliding down and pressing against his golden scaled abs.

"Do you know the mating ritual of the warks?" She didn't wait for him to answer, instead letting her fingers caress his bare chest. A soft velvety tongue licked her lips as she continued to speak softly.

"When a hen wark is ready for mating, she'll seek out a rooster. Said rooster will present himself, and if she finds him appealing, she will encourage him to get a little rough. You see…"

Taking a step back Miss Marigold began to unbutton her shirt, revealing her bra clad breasts. "A wark could kick the stuffing out of any rooster that tried to pass her. But if invited…" Her pale skin practically glowed in the moonlight, as her massive bosom was barely contained in nightshade embroidered black lace. Fingers trailed between her valley, her lips pulled into a sultry grin. "A strong bird could have his way with her. Do anything he wanted."

She motioned for Toss to come closer. One hand grabbed him by the belt and pulled the dragonkin flush to her. The other grabbed the scruff of his neck and pulled him down into a hot kiss. Her tongue slipped against his, before breaking away just enough to whisper. "I left my firearms in my saddle, if you catch my drift."

Toss did, in fact, catch the drift. Strong arms wrapped around the woman's shorter frame, pulling her into another kiss that had her toes curling. Her hands crawled up his back as his claws grasped at her breasts, enticing a shuddering moan with each squeeze.

A squeal and a giggle escaped Edith's lips as she felt herself being tossed to the ground, her hips rising in the air as the dragonkin's hands gave her shapely rear a firm smack. Though her face was half in the grass she smiled as she felt the young man get even closer behind her, his claws pulling down her tight jeans.

Yes. A very good crop this year.