Cedar Sweep horse with no name

There was something unnerving about the way the stranger looked at him. There was a wildness there that he wasn't used to, and he realized with an idle thought that he had gotten too accustomed to the look of the pack wolf. Pack wolves seemed much tamer by comparison, more relaxed, well fed, and sociable. Of course, Ambrose had no idea if this person was a social creature or not — but she looked so at home here in the wilderness that it made him feel like an alien touching down on a new planet. Maybe he should've backed off and called, I come in peace! But he was still catching his breath.

At the very least this woman would serve as a distraction from his recent failings, and that was something. Ambrose knew the old adage — don't put your dick in crazy, — but his heart was still racing from his run and he couldn't really keep his mind out of that particular gutter. She was an attractive sort of thing, but her wildness kept him from acting on impulse, thank god. Rather than sauntering closer and trying to charm her with some half-baked compliments, he waited until he could breathe regularly and then he took a step back, tossing his stupid hypersexualised thoughts out of his head.

Sorry, probably spooked you, he started, and flashed a cheeky smile as he settled back on his haunches. Wasn't my intention. Just wanted to stretch my legs — but I guess you saw that, he took a deep breath as his heart rate finally settled and then shook himself off, his windswept coat becoming a mess of dishevelment as Ambrose worked the last of his adrenaline out of his body.