Friday, September 4, 2015
Hell of a Hunt...
Hi all, well another shorty from me...actually, it may be shorty's for a while on my front. I've been dealing with a problimatic hand and wrist for the entire summer and am now getting PT for it. I'd initially thought it was carpel, but happily I was wrong!
Anyway, exercises and periodic splinting has been called for, so my typing time is limited for now.
I hope you enjoy Nick and Ziva's continuing trial in short spurts.
By the by, the picture has nothing to do with today's blog, but it just felt like a good day to admire this classic shot. ~sigh~
Nick stood beside his brother and behind his nephews watching as, together, they culled the young deer from the herd. Damn those boys were good. It really shouldn’t surprise him considering they were McMahons.
He and Mooney were one hell of a hunting pair when they were young…still were if the truth be told, but he would cop to being worried about how the boys would do, being raised by their vegetarian mother. Marissa may be their step-mother, but she, unquestionably, loved those boys like every mother should. How though, could a veggie lover understand the need to hunt red meat?
Today showed he shouldn’t have worried.
She’d proved him wrong though and he was happy to admit that it had to be her love that encouraged the boys to be who they were.
Holy Lupa. That thought alone had him wondering what he and Ziva would do if Cooper or Rain decided to follow a herbie lifestyle instead of a carnie one?
Love them, Dumbass. He could hear Ziva’s voice in his head as if she was standing in front of him. Of course they’d be loved, even if they only ate carrots and stuff.
Something tugged at his awareness, made his hackles rise and pulled him from his musings. A howl and not just any howl, her howl. Ziva’s pained cry pierced his soul and froze everyone around them. Nick raised his snout and let loose with an answering howl of his own before he took off in search of his hurt mate. At his back were Mooney and his boys as well as Reetha. Training was a family affair, as was rescue.
Ziva had been stationed in front of the gorge to make sure there were no accidents, yet somehow she’d had one of her own…she was going to be pissed. If Ziva were hurt terribly, he could only hope that piss and vinegar kept her alive and aware until he reached her.
Have a wonderful weekend!