I felt like writing angst and I haven’t written for the cowboy/farmer au sooo… :3c
“Come on Dia, just a bit farther, boy.”
Bakura abandoned riding his horse the first sign of slowing and he could feel the limp bump him from his focus on the road ahead. It was pouring, but despite this his home had been set ablaze. Bakura barely was able to free the cattle and his horse before the fire collapsed the roof, forcing Bakura to leap over the flames.
Diabound’s coat was no longer a mottled white but a cinder gray with the rain mixing into ash and staining it. Diabound huffed and stopped, pulling back on his reigns hard enough to cause Bakura to stumble back.
“Dia…just a bit more, please. We need to get help.”
Bakura didn’t know if his parents made it out, only that a few chickens chose to hide in his old truck, which now had broken windows. His father had driven out for help, but his mother had screamed at him to grab Diabound and run.
He didn’t know if his parents were okay, or if the house was still burning, and the more he stopped to think about it the more frantic he became to move.
“Diabound! We need to go, I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
Bakura weakly tugged, but Diabound would not. His master was in distress and they were out of danger, so he gently nudged Bakura’s chest the way he did when asking for oats.
“I don’t…I don’t have any Dia, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”
Bakura stroked Diabound’s muzzle, earning a quiet whinny from the draft horse. He sniffled, the trauma of watching his home burn sinking in, wrapping his arms around the horses neck for comfort. The weight of Dia’s head nudging at his back broke the dam, and he grieved the loss of his home.
