With saddle soap in one hand and a fistful of paper towel in the other, Ciaran looked prepared to participate in the most bizarre cowboy duel. And he was quite determined to win. Cleaning his own tack was an odd job to get, especially since he would be wearing it in a few hours time. His collection of tack, saddle, blanket and halter, were dumped on a table he had set up just for the purpose of brushing it all off. The western style saddle was hardly dusty yet the order was given that it had to shine. So shine he would make it do.
First, he dumped a bottle of water across the brown leather then scrubbed out the dirt with the paper towels. Up and down, back and forth, until every design and crevasse was clean. While that dried, he shook out the saddle blanket and wiped off the nylon halter that he didn't really need. A line would be attached to a pole or to a trainer's hand, but Ciaran needed no direction. He was parading in a wide circle, after all, and there wasn't a lake for miles.
He finished scrubbing the saddle with the soap and set it aside with the rest of the tack, all folded and neat. Did the saddle shine? Of course it did. Mission accomplished. The soap package said unscented, but he could smell the oil, wax, with a faint whiff of chemicals. And food. His stomach grumbled and he pat his gut affectionately. Then another scent came in on the breeze which he identified as a fox. Specifically, the fox-girl.
Their first meeting had caused him half a meal (he didn't mind, really) and Ciaran had only seen Yuriko darting about since then, like a little fox-pixie. He turned to greet his guest with a kind smile, ignoring the plate of mouthwatering sandwiches for the moment. It would be rude to just snatch them from her hand. "Hey there, this for me?" Now he could take them, gently of course, and bite off a chunk of bread. Delicious. Still chewing, he gestured to a chair he had stolen from a nearby tent and raised his eyebrows. Would she like to sit? He certainly wasn't using it.