Chaos Precip

( I wasn't hummin'. )

It's hot, it's muggy, and Bill Pardy is pissed as hell as he and Bors stand along the roadside on horseback.

The two dismount, and Bill hands his reins off to Bors, who leads the lightening manes to a tree to tie them up.

Looking up and down the deserted stretch of road, Bill sighs.

"Why the hell am I out here?"

"'Cause you popped off to the mayor while he was already reamin' you," Bors answers matter-of-factly.

"That asshole's tryin' t'tell me how t'do my job? Screw him."

Brushing his hands off, Bors walks back over to Bill.

"M'not sayin' you was wrong, I'm just sayin' that's why we're out 'ere."

Throwing Bors a dirty look, Bill crosses the road.

"Lemme know if we get any traffic," Bill says, finding a spot to sit in the shade, with his back up against a tree.

Bors sits down on a tree stump, watching Bill, and continues to muse.

"'Course, 'e is tellin' you what t'do, sendin' you out here t'pull a checkpoint shift an' all... "

Bill scowls and tugs down the bill of his cap to cover his eyes.

"Shut the hell up, Bors."

Barking a laugh, Bors leans down to pluck a stalk of grass up, sets it in his mouth, and settles in to watch.