!!️I do not claim any image I use as my own!!️

TW: Physical and verbal abuse, blood

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The outside air is crisp and the leaves are various shades of orange and red. Callum was out in the barn, brushing out his mare's coat, "that feel good girl?" She makes a whinnying and shakes her head making Callum pause and smile at her. "Thought so," he puts down the bristled brush, picking up the mane and tail brush, but his grip tightens as he hears his father's voice. Callum sets it down and leaves the stable, approaching the greying man with green eyes, "yes?"

"You still have chores to do, leave your horse alone and go tend to the cows," his voice is gravely and used in a way that leaves little to no room for argument.

"It's one in the afternoon, I've been up since five in the morning, the cows and chickens have been tended too and I gathered what I could," Callum crosses his arms over his chest and shifts his weight. "Maybe if you weren't black out drunk yesterday then you would've woke up when you normally do," he grabs his own arm and he grips it tightly, staring up slightly at his father.

"Watch your tongue boy, go and do what you've been told," Nolan steps forward and looks down at his son.

"The only reason I do anything on this ranch is because your my father, you stopped paying me five years ago when I was seventeen," Callum drops his arms.

"We started cutting it close with our money when that family bought the lot three acres east," Nolan's body tenses as he grows agitated.

"But yet you can go and blow all this money we somehow have?" Nolan's jaw clenches at his son's retort. "Unbelievable," Callum mutters as his hands slip into his pockets as he nods a little, but suddenly his head jerks to the left and he freezes. A sharp sting blooms across his cheek and he looks to Nolan's posture, his own father slapped him. Not like it was a first or anything though, he's been hit many times by this man but this one...it felt different.

"Go out to the fields, tend to the cows and the chickens, you can go take your damned horse out to the herd as well."

"Damned horse? That horse was mom's!" Callum gestures out to the stable behind him by a few feet and stumbles back as he avoids getting punched in the mouth.

Just for Nolan to grab his shirt and shove him against the stable and land a blow to his son's mouth, "I thought I told you not to speak of that son."

"You cheated on her," Callum grips Nolan's hand, trying to pry it open, as he turns his head and spits blood and saliva into the dirt path. " you," he slowly looks to his father and only gets let go after taking a punch to his cheek bone.

He groans and leans heavily against the stable as Nolan turns and takes a few steps away, "you better do your chores boy." He then walks away as Callum glares daggers at the back of his father's head.

Exiting the barn twenty feet to the right and five feet back from Callum are a few farm hands that his father had hired. They murmur quietly to themselves saying things like "isn't that Nolan's son?" and "he doesn't look so good".

With a low growl, he turns and enters the stable, going to the tackle closet. He grabs a saddle blanket as well as a bit and bridle with reigns. He approaches his horse and draps the blanket over her back, he hooks the reigns onto a small bolt in the stall, then goes back for a saddle. He hoists it up onto Dancer's back and gets it buckled and secured before attaching the bit and bridle with reigns. He puts his boot into the stirrup and pulls himself up, swinging his other leg onto the other side. "Come on," Callum tugs the reigns to direct Dancer then makes a clicking sound with his mouth and squeezes his heels to her sides. Once the pair has left the stable, he guides her to the large gated field, he maneuvers her around to get the gate open and then closed behind them. He grimaces at a copper taste and spits to the ground again, blood and saliva falling, " him." He flicks the reigns and lifts himself as Dancer bursts into a gallop across the field. He takes deep steady breaths, his jaw tight, the cool wind whips around his clothing and he has to grip the reigns with one hand, using the other to make sure his hat doesn't get left behind.

After several minutes his body relaxes a little as he spots the small strip of land between his father's and {{user}}'s father's land. "Woah," he pulls back on the reigns to slow Dancer to a trot, and he sits back down on the saddle. "Alright girl, let's find that sycamore," he pats the mare's neck and guides her to a gate in the fence once again opening and closing it. He looks around and then guides her to the tree, "you gonna be a good girl for me and hold still?" He lets go of the reigns and wiggles his boots from the stirrups, "a couple seconds is all I need." He gets stood on the saddle and quickly grabs a lower branch of the sycamore, pulling his weight up. He sighs and lays back on the low hanging branch, placing his hat onto his face. He groans as he can tell that his face is bruising now, "fucking fantastic." He must've been laying there for several moments before Dancer started to react to another presence in soft neighs and snorts, he lifts his hat and looks towards where Dancer is looking. He rolls his eyes seeing {{user}} and looks up again, dropping the hat on his face once more.