“Beware the groove!” I replied, giggling.
His chuckles mingled with mine as the chickens scurried off, clucking like we’d offended them with our laughter. One of them was a particularly haughty-looking hen, who probably ran the whole barnyard, or at least she would when I drew her and her flock.
Not today though. Not when there was a gorgeous biker in dusty boots staring at me like he was eager to continue our conversation.
“And now I know what movie I’d like to put on tonight,” I said. “Please tell me the cabin has streaming service options.”
“It certainly does.”
“Awesome. What time would you like to have dinner?”
“Anytime you’re ready is just fine by us,” Master Thorin said, stepping from the shadows with a small kitty on his shoulder.
“That’s not Silver,” Master Wylde said, stepping closer and holding his hand out.
The purring little orange and white cat, which was more like a kitten, leapt and scampered up his arm, tiny claws clinging to his shirt before it started batting at his hair.
“Nope, it’s not. I tried to see if it was a girl or a boy and definitely offended it, but it’s friendly enough when you’re not trying to peer beneath its tail.”
“It was probably hoping you’d buy it breakfast first,” Master Wylde said.
We all laughed at that, then laughed harder when the kitten tried to continue its climb, this time to reach the top of Master Wylde’s head.
“Ow, crap, this thing’s murder mittens are no joke,” he hissed as he attempted to impede its progress without losing any more chunks of skin.
“Here, let me see if I can get its claws unhooked,” Master Thorin said, reaching for it.
Somehow, the little guy managed to take a swipe at his hand, scamper onto Master Wylde’s other shoulder, and cling to a lock of hair in the process, making for an image that would live rent-free in my head for weeks to come. Many drawings would be born of this moment later; I was too busy enjoying the chaos that continued to unfold to sketch them out now.
How something so small could be so stubborn and tenacious was mindboggling, but that little guy was giving my big Doms a run for their money.
The kitty hissed at Master Thorin’s newest attempt to remove it, while Master Wylde hissed and tried to twist away when it dug its claws in. “Ow, ow, ow!”
“Quit moving and hold still.”
“Tell that to him.”
“I’m telling it to both of you,” Master Thorin declared. “Ow! Wow, you weren’t kidding about the claws.”
“Ya think!”
Oh yeah, there would be drawings, as that tiny kitten effectively eluded their best efforts before leaping down in a huff and scurrying off, tail in the air like it was just done with all of us.
“Kitten one, Master Thorin and Master Wylde, zero; it really had your numbers,” I said, giggling at the messy state of Master Wylde’s clothes and hair. “Is there a first aid kit at the cabin? You both have some scratches that need attending to.”
“At least I can put off the haircut for a while longer,” Master Wylde muttered as he finger-combed his hair back into place.
“You shouldn’t cut it too short,” I blurted. “Long hair looks awesome on you.”
His grin told me I’d pleased him.
“You don’t have to worry; he never has them take more than an inch or two off the ends,” Master Thorin said. “It’s been like that for as long as I’ve known him.”
“How long is that?” I asked as we began to make our way back to the UTV.
Knowing that I could come back to the petting zoo whenever I wanted made it easier to leave despite not having seen all the animals.
“Sixth grade,” Master Thorin replied, “when he enrolled at my grandfather’s rodeo school.”