Bucky pushes himself up to his feet slowly. The old girl hears him get up and comes padding over from the kitchen, nudging at his flesh hand. He can't even be angry at her, rubbing her head gently. Some more human company might be good for her, even if Zemo's company is always. Questionable.

"I can make space in the barn. Cover it up with some tarp," Bucky offers. He would have rescinded that offer with all that shade Zemo was throwing on him and his place but Zemo has wisely chosen not to speak any of those things out loud. It does mean that his little rescue farm will have slightly less space but it's a big enough barn that it shouldn't bother them too much.

Of course, the place is so run down that it doesn't look like it can survive a strong gust of wind. But the barn, like everything else here, has seen some shit and is sturdier than she looks.

"Unless it's not good enough for you." Bucky can't keep the scowling juvenile sarcasm out of his voice.