A series of one shot chapters about Bucky Barnes mostly told in the first person by different people. Stories will reflect different times in the life of James Buchanan Barnes. This is PG rated and any sexual content will be kept to a minimum.
Mar...
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It wasn't the crow of the rooster that woke Bucky up. He had slept well; no nightmares had plagued him this time. When he opened his eyes feeling that something wasn't right it took a few moments before he realized what it was. He couldn't hear his goats.
"Shit," he muttered, sitting up and heading to the small bathroom in his hut, where he relieved himself.
Pulling his work pants on first he tugged on a sleeveless undershirt, tucked it in, then pulled up the fly on his pants, doing the button up as he walked back to his bed. His boots were ready to be slipped on and he quickly tied the laces using the one-handed technique that had taken him a day to figure out when he first came to Wakanda. After double knotting the loops, he grabbed his work shirt and slipped it on, doing up the buttons as he headed outside.
"Dammit goats," he said out loud, seeing where one of them had pulled away the wire netting creating a hole big enough for the baby goats to get out. Of course, the nanny goats, seeing their kids outside of the enclosure had finished the job, pulling it even further to where one of them, likely Constance, had pushed and pushed the post until it fell over, opening up an even bigger space for her and the other nanny goats to escape as well. Constance was known for continually testing the strength of the posts that he and his neighbour, Silumko had spent hours pounding into the soil when they first erected the pen. Stepping over the mess of the peeled back wire netting he strode into the small shed that acted as a shelter during rainy times to see if any of the goats still remained. He was shocked to see Constance there.
"Okay," he said to the oldest goat he owned. "So, it wasn't you that pushed the post over. Unless you did it just to bother me and send me on a wild goose chase, or should I say, wild goat chase."
Bucky didn't know why he was talking to the goat. It wasn't like she was going to answer him, as she stood there calmly eating what was left of the sweet hay he brought in the day before. Maybe she was the guilty party so she could have the hay all to herself. He posed that to her but of course she gave no indication that she even understood what he was saying.
"Damn goat," he muttered again.
The sound of one of the baby goats bleating drew his attention and he came out to the sight of Silumko's son Uuka, carrying Stevie, his oldest billy goat who was making a big show of struggling against the arms of the boy.
"White Wolf, I found this one in our garden," said the boy, in English. "Mama sent me to tell you the others are scattered over the whole village."
"Thank you," replied Bucky, taking the struggling goat from the boy. "Can you help me round them up?"
"Of course, Mama said I should help," replied Uuka. He looked critically at the goat paddock. "You might have to fix this first otherwise they will just get out again."
"Tell me something I don't know, kid," thought the older man.
Still carrying the struggling Stevie, he went into his hut and came out with a handful of collars and tethers. With Uuka's assistance they managed to get one on the uncooperative goat and he tied him up to one of the sturdier posts. Looking sternly at Constance, Bucky pointed his finger at her.
