A/N: I'm going through and editing the chapters. So if you're a first time reader, you'll never know that I improved it. If you returned for some reason, no more hermaphrodite horse ;D

Chapter One:

Jack's story started with a death. This was not an unusual beginning by any means, but it was a sad one. Especially when he strode through the town the first time, only to see a celebration being held in his grandfather's honor. It made his eyes sting in an embarrassing way but he kept a smile plastered on his face. It would do no good for his new neighbors to think he was weak, whether the vulnerability came in tears or brooding behavior. He stayed up late that first night, accepting the offered food and drinks. All he really wanted to do was go to his newly acquired farm and go to sleep.

With their stomachs fit to burst, sloshing with vegetables and booze, the town people seemed to head off to their homes all at once. Jack lingered a little, watching a young woman with pink hair totter out of the square. He knew his grandpa would have appreciated the day. He knew he should be rejoicing in the long, prosperous life his father's father had lived. He knew he should be hoping his death was similar to this. But death was never pleasant, no matter how old or happy the person had been.

Jack shoved the sadness deep down inside him and went to sleep. It was only when he woke up, sunlight streaming through grimy curtains, that he looked around the house - if you could call it that. It was a single, small room with a TV, a chest, and a bed. It was a meager set up but at the same time it motivated him to think of the beauty he could create. The walls were not particularly sturdy and would be easy to add on. Hell, even the little cube he currently occupied could be spruced up with new curtains, a rug, maybe a spice rack.

Jack had his axe ready when he went out to the field, but first he fed the dog, who was currently unnamed. But he was a happy thing and clearly had not suffered the same neglect as the rest of the farm.

The first week of his new rural life was spent busting up wood and stones. His limbs strained, sweat, blistered, and burned. The second week, his palms grew calloused and and the rest of him tanned. The third week, Jack's intially small supply of money had fallen dangerously low. Although a few holidays had passed, this was the first time he ventured out of his land. Everything seemed a little brighter out in the town roads, but he took a sharp right straight to the mountains. There, he spent a couple of hours harvesting the wild plants, to be sold later. On his way back, he passed a girl with two flaming braids, but he kept his head down and his eyes averted. He knew socialization was important but at the moment he was more dedicated to whipping his farm into a passable state than making friends. Anyway, there seemed to be so many females around this place. Who would he place bets with and drink with and whatever else these country boys did?

The first week of Summer, Jack decided his farm (and his bank account) was ready for some crops and animals. He went first to the animal store, intent on buying a couple chickens and feed. He was distracted by the braided girl - her hair was rather bright and she was standing in the middle of a pasture, cooing and clucking at horses. He took a couple steps closer to her, resting his elbows on the fence to watch her. He had never been skilled with horses and those who could breed and ride fascinated him.

A couple minutes ticked away and Jack remembered how precious his time was. At the same time, the redhead pushed sweaty bangs off her forehead and took her gaze off the animals for the first time. Right onto Jack. "Hey," she said, her voice bright and friendly. She walked over to him, speaking all the while. "You're that new kid, right? Taking over for that man?" She paused and glanced in the general direction of the farm. "He was a great guy. Cared a lot about animals." She once again fiddled with her sweaty hair, this time perhaps a little self-consciously. Jack felt no such qualms about his own physical appearance. He was aware his overalls suffered a few rips and more than a few smears of dirt and his own blood. Who cared? He said nothing but her smile stayed bright. "Hey, you know - well, yeah, it would - GRAY!" Her voice rose in volume and pitch as she shrieked the color across the field. Jack took half a step back in surprise and she laughed, throwing her head back to express his amusement. He felt tired just looking at her, and he really needed to get back to his farm...

"What?" This word was snapped out of the irritable mouth of a guy a few years older than Jack. This, apparently, was Gray. He looked angry and Jack just wanted to make his excuses, buy his chickens, and leave.

"Don't you think he'd be perfect?" she said. Gray's eyebrows pushed together in a severe line.

"No. Who is he?"

"Oh, he's taken over that farm. His name is..." she trailed off and looked at him.

"Jack," he supplied and offered his hand to Gray. He didn't take it. Awkward. The young farmer shifted uncomfortably on his feet and brought his hand back to his side. This was not a very functional family. He only hoped the quality of the other townspeople would improve. That was unfair. The girl was alright, just a little exuberant. At least she smiled and met his eyes.

"And I'm Ann, and this jerk is Gray. Well, we want you to have our horse. We really want her to be a racehorse, she's got the blood and everything, but every buyer just wants to breed her because he's so beautiful too." A fast, beautiful, free horse? This sounded too good to be true. But Ann was smiling and Jack shrugged.

"Sure. Racing sounds fun," he said. He reached up and pulled his cap of his head, running his hand through his sweaty brown locks. "I really came here to get some chickens, though."

"Aw, look at you Jack, getting all talkative when you want to get away." Ann was teasing but the baby-talk-voice was more than a little annoying. He probably didn't hide his irritation too well because Gray's face darkened, if that was possible, and Ann's smile faded just a little. "Well, we'll send her to your farm, get her all set up in the stable and all that. I'm sure you have one from your Paw." Jack had seen a one-animal padlock outside the main barn but had not questioned its purpose. It must be for a horse, then.

As Jack entered the store, he checked his watch. Thirty minutes had trickled away while he listened to Ann and was glared at by Gray. Well, he'd gotten a free horse out of it. No use complaining. Jack replaced his hat and smiled at the man running the shop. Judging by his flaming hair, he was Ann's father. This made him wonder what Gray's role was - brother, cousin, nephew, husband? All were equal possibilities, except husband. Jack could not imagine the two being in love.

The man seemed to be a mix between the two young adults, sociable but gruff. Still he got down to business and Jack purchased 3 chickens and a month worth of feed in under fifteen minutes. They shook hands after the exchange of money and Doug, Ann's father, bared his teeth in resemblance to a smile. "I like a man who takes care of his animals," he said. It sounded both a word of advice and a threat. Jack just smiled, unsure how to respond.

He left the Green Ranch considerably confused and talked out. He briefly considered waiting for the following day to plant the crops but knew putting things off was always a bad idea. Luckily, the crop buying was easy. He recognized the girl who had been the last to leave his funeral. Apparently she worked under her mom's management in their family's flower shop. The two were friendly but did not engage him in conversation. That was great. He felt good giving his services to someone like that, pretty and smiley and pink-haired but quiet.

The tomatoes and corn were planted and watered before sunset, leaving Jack a little time to scramble around in the mountains and collect wild plants for a bit of extra income, now that he'd blown most of his money. It would pay off. He kept a couple of berries instead of shipping them. He could make berry smoothies in the morning. At least, he could make the equivalent of a berry smoothie by mashing the fruit inside a cup and adding water.

The local weather channel told him it was expected to rain the following morning so his final act of the day was to bring the dog inside. Jack fell asleep sore and content, his dog curled up on his bed and snoring in an endearing way. The morning dawned humid and rainy as promised. He made his berry smoothie and had taken a single sip when there was a knock at the door. At first he was not sure he had heard it, weak and faint that it was. But then the dog barked and he opened the door, his liquid breakfast in hand. Outside stood a man, his sopping hair long and pulled back in a ponytail except for the bangs plastered to his forehead. His clothes were dirty and torn but Jack was not one to judge based on cleanliness. He bathed in the same outdoor pond he filled his watering can, after all.

After a couple of seconds of gaping, Jack wordlessly opened the door completely. The stranger walked in and Jack shut the door. He leaned against the door as the man shifted his coat, and out flew a falcon. He was considerably drier than his human counterpart. At the bird's appearance, the dog began to bark loudly. Jack scooped him up with his free hand and held him. This seemed to quiet his barks, though Jack did not know why.

"I'm very hungry," the man said. His voice shook lightly and, although his body was too cloaked to judge, it was clear from his face he was unhealthy. Jack unthinkingly thrust the berry concoction into the stranger's hand. He looked at it and then gulped it down.

"I don't have anything better right now," he said. "I can get some eggs, make an omelet." The stranger set down the cup on Jack's table and looked at him closely.

"Yes, please. Thank you." He settled on the floor and the falcon, which had been flying around, came to a rest on his shoulder. "I will repay you."

"Don't be stupid," Jack said, and immediately felt stupid for saying so. Maybe that was because the guy had lifted his eyebrows to suggest that very fact. It didn't matter. Why was he going to such great lengths to help this bum anyway? Jack could not answer this question, no matter how he puzzled over it. He brought the dog into the chicken coop so that he could stay dry but would not interfere with any conversation. The mutt looked happy running around and barking at the chickens, anyway. For their part, they were more concerned with salvaging their eggs than with the dog, and Jack received several pecks of proof. He left three eggs to be shipped and took two with him. With his small amount of profit, it hurt to use even these. He told himself not to be selfish.

Jack paused for a moment on his journey back indoors and checked on his seeds. They appeared to be buried deeply enough that the storm would not wash them out. This cheered the farmer and he was whistling as he reappeared in his house. The stranger was still on the floor only now his eyes were closed. He did not open them as he said, "My name is Cliff. My friend here is Cain. I travel all around but I usually return to Moon Mountain for the Spring."

"Spring? It's summer."

"Note I said usually." There was a distinct edge to Cliff's voice. It was unreadable and a little mean, so Jack busied himself with cooking the egg. He used a combination of the side of his (thoroughly cleaned) axe and boiling water. It was tricky and it just reminded him that he really needed a kitchen. At the end, he was pleased with the watery omelet, and set it down in front of Cliff with something of a grin. The falcon-owner ate quietly, without complaint or thanks. Jack wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't much for conversation, but it appeared the same was true of Cliff. At least he wasn't outright hostile like Gray. "What happened to the old man that used to be here?"

"He died. He was my grandpa," Jack said. Cliff went a little red and looked down at his plate.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Jack picked up his gloves off his nightstand and tugged them on. "I need to go out. You can stay here until the rain stops." Cliff looked up at this and met Jack's eyes, his cheeks still a little red. Jack had not noticed they were blue before. There was a weird little clench in his stomach but he did not look away.

"No," Cliff said, standing. Cain fluttered his wings a little to maintain balance. "I'm leaving. Thanks for the food."

"You're going to walk around in the rain when you could be warm and dry in my house?" Jack questioned, lifting his eyebrows, smiling a little. Underneath the smile was genuine concern for Cliff. He hardly looked well enough to be waltzing around in the rain, risking a cold or pneumonia.

"Yes." He paused and looked at Cain. "Well, Cain has the sniffles. He will stay here. I will be back when the rain stops." He pushed gently at the bird, causing it to hop off his shoulder and begin flying around.

"Does he need food or anything?" Cliff just shook his head and then stepped outside. The sound of the door shutting was oddly aggravating. Why didn't he just stay? Jack figured he must have really annoyed him. He didn't worry about it too long. He had to go and chop the stumps in the forest. It was a lucky thing no one had yet cared enough to claim them or stop him from chopping them down. They were a great source of lumber and the only thing he could actually do during rainy days.

Of course, he used the word 'do' loosely. He had to go slow and carefully, paying close attention to his body. At the first sign of soreness or tiredness, he had to quit or risk getting sick. Jack thought only of his physical condition as he spent the rest of the day chopping and collecting wood. On his walk home, the rain slowed and stopped. He took the opportunity to shed his shirt, untie his bandana, and pull down the top of his overalls, rendering him shirtless. The weak beams of sun felt good on his water-soaked body. He fed the chickens and put the dog outside. Ann had not brought the horse. He could guess it was because of the rain or because she had changed her mind. The sun was not up long enough that he had to water the crops again, so he just went to sleep. The last thought he had was, "I really need to get new curtains."