“So, this is how it is with you . . .” he said quietly out to the dark swirling firmament. In reply, lightning and thunder cracked and exploded all along the far curve of the earth.
“All right, then,” he said, clearing all slates, settling all accounts past or present in preparation for what lay at hand. He felt the big Remington cold and wet on his belly beneath his slicker as he pushed forward against the wind, pulling the roan behind him. “You best stay up with me, horse,” he cautioned over his shoulder, “Orez might just eat you before it's over.”
The roan sawed its wet head in protest, but followed, mane and tail wind-whipped, slinging water.