*sigh* -private-

Luke is not having a good week. All he knows is that one: he's never ever going to the basement again; two: next time he sees someone who tripped he is going to pretend like it never happened; and three: be more careful when sneaking out after curfew lest a nymph sees him. Dammit, he must have bad luck with girls. Luke grumbles to himself, sounds made incoherent by the cloth tied around his mouth and nose, and shovels horse and pegasi manure to the growing pile. Gagging, he steps away. Stupid punishments.

The stench is really getting to him, and Luke makes a mental note to get a hundred showers after he's done. He would also need to trash the clothes he's wearing-- an extra-large navy blue shirt and his last pair of khakis-- or wash them at least a hundred times. Once he's a good distance away from the horse crap (literal crap), Luke rips off the cloth and gets the first fresh breath he's had since this whole endeavor started. It feels like the first breath of life.

Tired, Luke bends forward with his elbows resting on the fence. A grazing horse looks up at him. He replies with a dark look. "Someone needs to invent a way to potty-train horses," he says, not particularly caring if someone hears. "Dogs and cats can do it. Aren't horses just as smart? Just saying." The horse whinnies-- Luke hears it as a mocking laugh and he slumps even more, shaking his head.