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Post by Kathryn St Pierre on Feb 9, 2013 20:38:07 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 557 ( TAGGED ) OPEN ( STATUS ) COMPLETE The crisp morn air ruffled the few strands of blond hair the she had failed to pull into her hair tie. Blue eyes scanned the grounds, as though this were the first time she had seen these grounds. To be honest, she probably knew these grounds better than anyone. She worked silently, adjusting straps and cinches on Rum's saddle, hardly constraining her excitement. The chill of the morning scent goose bumps up and down her arms, despite the light jacket she donned. Shaking the chills away, she took a deep breath before gripping the saddle and launching herself smoothly into the leather groove. Rum danced sideways a step, always eager to begin their pre-dawn exercises. A small smile drew her lips in an upward curve, her hands gripping the reins and feeling the fine leather with her thumbs. This was her element. The silence that hung in the air around her and Rum, was sweet heaven to her battered senses.
"You are something to be conquered..." She recalled the words, her spine stiffening as the memories flowed over her senses. Why did she always have to remember him? Why couldn't he become a part of the past as her mother had? Her lips thinned and she found herself spurring Rum into movement, his forelimbs spreading around as his hooves grazed the earth and propelled him forward. His onyx pelt glistened from the morning mist, causing the onyx strands to shine around his neck. Reaching down she patted the glistening strands, certain that he could feel how tense she was. Her back remained aligned, her knees squeezing his sides as she told him what she wanted. The stallion tossed his heavy head and moved faster, his form flying over the grounds in herculean effort, his nostrils flaring as he drew in quick breaths. The first obstacle was just ahead, a ditch with pointers along each side. Lowering herself, she felt his front end rise up. Her flew smoothly over the dip in the earth, his front hooves crisply catching earth before they were replaced with his powerful hindquarters.
Her determination was evident, as she spurred him faster, the wind jerking and yanking at the week hair tie that was now letting her blond hair fall array around her face. His movements became erratic, his legs lifting far too quickly from the earth to balance them. He stumbled once, jerking her from her mind. The next obstacle was far to close for her to draw her mind to issue the command. He drew up short, sliding to a stop and unbalancing her. Since she hadn't been paying attention, she wasn't exactly surprised when she flew over his shoulder and met the ground with a sore rear end. Her blue eyes were wide with shock for a moment, until the stallion lowered his head to her lap as though he were sniffing for a treat. She found herself laughing as her began nibbling at her hair. She had pushed him too hard and she needed to take care not to do that again. She was certainly surprised the overly active stallion hadn't taken off in the fields.
Gripping his bridle on each side of his face, she pulled his nose toward and nuzzle between his nostrils with her nose. "I'm sorry Rum. Forgive me?" She piped, tilting her head to eye him ruefully. I'm horrible at starting threads, so I probably rambled a lot in this one. ^^ also, caps are disabled in my table |
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Marcel Toulouse
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Post by Marcel Toulouse on Feb 9, 2013 21:41:57 GMT -5
Marc was riding Wish, just taking her for a pacing run, really, not even going over the obstacles all the time. It is a test run, a feeling out sort of. And it feels good. She is smooth and calm, a cool breeze in comparison with the heat that is Mori. She is joyously jumping the smaller obstacles Marc is letting her and calmly bypassing those he won't let her. He almost feels free enough to just drop his reins and stretch his arms out as if flying. Though he must look funny, a 5'10" figure on a 14 hand mare, though her bulk offers some comfort. Wish is a complete sweetheart, even though still green. In the ring she can get a bit antsy, but out here she shines, galloping free in the open grass.
They crest the next hill and Wish spooks sideways, out of character. Marc catches his balance, putting weight heavy in his outside stirrup, then pulling her up. "Easy, ho. Easy, ho" he says, then sees what she is staring at. They've caught up to some of the others out on the course, and things are not going well. Marc watches as if in slow motion as his rider takes a tumble off. He catches his breath in his throat, and then sighs in relief as she rises to her feet and reassures her horse. He decides to head down and check if she is alright anyways. Best to be careful.
He guides Wish down at an easy trot, urging her gently to get her past her initial spookiness. "Um.. hey," he starts shyly. "I, er, saw you fall and wanted to make sure you were alright." Why was he always so awkward with women? He was fine, even rough spoken, most of the time, or even with girls he knew, but now he was feeling like a high school freshman at his first high school dance. Not that he really knew what normal school was like, but, to stick to the stereotype. "Anyways, I haven't seen you around before. I'm Marcel, and this is Wish." he says affectionately patting the mare's neck, the moment where she almost dumped him on the ground alongside this woman long behind him in his mind.
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Post by Kathryn St Pierre on Feb 9, 2013 22:08:40 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 473 ( TAGGED ) MARCEL/OPEN ( STATUS ) COMPLETE Her eyes narrowed as Rum jerked his head from her grasp and danced around, his nose up in the air as though he smelled something. Reaching down she grabbed the reins and stood up on her toes to pull them over his head as though they were lead-ropes. She should have guessed that he couldn't stay focused on her for more than it took to see why she was on the ground. Could horses have ADD? She laughed lightly at the thought, knowing full well that it was just the stallion in him. A noise sounded not far off and she found herself peering at the ridge-line as a horse and rider closed in the distance.
Rum danced about in place, tossing his head excitedly. It quickly became apparent that it was a mare carrying a male rider. Tightening her grip on the reins, she tugged him back a bit to get better control over him. She looked at her feet for a moment, preparing herself for what was going to be an encounter, it seemed. She didn't exactly do that well around people. She never knew what to say to people, and she always had the feeling that she should run and hide. Sucking in a breath, she set her shoulders and looked up just as he spoke. "Oh, I'm fine. Thank you. I guess I wasn't paying attention and I didn't have time to signal him when I realized where we were..." She blushed, cheats turning a stark shade of red. That was a great way of saying that she had done something stupid. It was embarrassing to make mistake in front of people. Not paying attention while on horseback? That was pure stupidity!
Stepping forward, she stroked the mare's nose softly before drawing back. "Hi, Wish. It's nice to meet you both, Marcel." Glancing at Rum, who stretched his neck toward the mare, she bit her bottom lip and laughed nervously. "This is Rum, and I'm Kathryn." Kathryn? She heard the shrill voice of her mother in her mind, yelling "Kathryn! Are you stupid?" "Kathryn, how dare you!" Twitching at the memory, she offered him a shy smile as she regarded his comment. "But I prefer Kat. We just moved here about a week ago. Have you lived here long?"
Rum moved restlessly beside her, continuously stretching his neck out in an attempt to get closer to the mare. Leaning forward she pressed a palm against the stallion's chest and pressed against it. "come on now. you act like you've never met a lady before! where are your manners?" The stallion tossed his head again in response, stomping a large hind hoof testily as he eyed kathryn as though he would roll his eyes at her. Turning, she peered at Marcel and sighed, "I'm sorry. i hope she isn't easily upset by males."
I'm horrible at starting threads, so I probably rambled a lot in this one. ^^ also, caps are disabled in my table |
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Marcel Toulouse
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Post by Marcel Toulouse on Feb 9, 2013 23:11:01 GMT -5
Marcel just wanted to know she was alright. He didn't really think about her embarrassment until too late. Hey, I've fallen lots of times. We all have, right? he says giving a half-shrug. It isn't as if he is too proud to admit his mistakes. Glad you're alright, though. He smiles, trying to put her at ease, that he isn't judging her. His initial awkwardness is gone, now that she is embarrassed. He hates making people feel upset.
Wish lips at the woman's fingers, hoping someone carries treats. Marcel had seen Rum in the barn before, though he hadn't known who the stallion had belonged to. "He is a handsome boy" Marcel states.
Marcel thinks before answering. He doesn't usually share he was a foster. It makes people a tad wary. Like he is some kind of juvenile delinquent. Yes, he has not been perfectly behaved, but he was not trying to cause trouble. It is like a spoiled horse being punished repeatedly because of what the owner has allowed it to become. But Marcel doesn't want to be considered broken or defective. So he glides over the truth normally. But he isn't sure he can answer without giving it away anyways. I mean, what normal 13 year old hangs out at the ranch unless they are a foster? "Um, a while. I was a kid here," Marcel says, gesturing at the grounds in general.
Marcel laughs at the stallion's forwardness. Normal, considering Wish is mare. "Don't worry! Mori, my stallion, would be twice as bad! And Wish is not upset too easily. Besides, I don't think she has grown out of the Barbie and Dress Up stage yet, since she is only 3. Meaning she was young, probably too young to really think of guys. Perhaps she would be different when coming in to heat, or as a five year old, but 3 year olds, while they can be bred, are still babies at heart in Marcel's mind.
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Post by Kathryn St Pierre on Feb 10, 2013 14:53:13 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 487 ( TAGGED ) MARCEL/OPEN ( STATUS ) COMPLETE Smiling, she realized her was trying to put her at ease. She shouldn't be too embarrassed, since he was right. How many times had she fallen off of lesson horses in college? Her mind sailed back in time to the first time she had fallen off of a horse. She remembered sitting on the ground, her butt sore and her eyes wide with shock, as the lesson horse hovered nearby as though nothing had happened.
"Get up!" "Why?" "That's what you do when you fall off of a horse. You get back up like nothing happened." "Oh." "I'm Riles, your instructor and professor, for all intents and purposes." "Oh, um... I'm Kathryn." "Kathryn, hmm? Kat. I'll call you Kat."
Her eyes grew cold at the memory, as she dragged herself back to the present. Was it hard for him to admit that he had fallen plenty of times? It was certainly hard for her to admit it. Shyly, she let a reluctant grin slip to her lips. "I guess I was just embarrassed that I wasn't paying attention." Rubbing her still sore rear end, she offered a pained expression at the thought. "It smarts, but yes, I'm alright." Reaching over to pat Rum, she offered a true smile and spoke. "He is. He's a big spoiled rotten baby, to be honest." She muttered affectionately to the stallion, who didn't even seem to notice her. His eyes were intent on the mare, his neck outstretched again in another attempt to get near her.
She turned her eyes back to Marcel as he made his admission. He'd been a kid here? She couldn't imagine what it would have been like to grow up without her dad. Her mom, on the other hand, she could have gladly lived without. But being around the horses was probably very therapeutic for him, as it was for her. Offering a grin she piped up "Oh? I'm so jealous. I couldn't imagine growing up in such a place." She peered around at the grounds, struck again by how beautiful the landscape was. Perhaps she would come to call this home, as he probably did. She glanced back to Rum as he spoke of his stallion, and was at-least grateful that the male hadn't lost all of his manners. He hadn't yet tried to tug away from her to get closer to the mare.
"She's only three?" She spoke, startled. "But she's so well behaved!" She reached out to pet the mare once more. Seeing the opportunity, Rum stepped forward and sniffed right along where Kat was petting. Eyeing the stallion suspiciously, she stepped back and was rewarded with a snort as the stallion followed suit. "You must really have a bond with her. But then, I'm only used to stallions. I worked mostly with the stud program in college, and Rum here is my first horse." She reach a hand under his large black head and squeezed him close at the thought.
Barbie and dress-up stage <3 |
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Marcel Toulouse
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Post by Marcel Toulouse on Feb 11, 2013 10:39:29 GMT -5
The first time Marcel had fallen off, there had been no one there. He'd been riding around the ranch on his assigned horse. He was upset, and still hadn't settled in, and was not a great rider, as he had never been on a horse before arriving and had been there less than a year. So it wasn't much of a surprise looking back that when his horse had spooked while galloping, he'd been right off, tumbling to the side. He had been too embarrassed to tell anyone, though he felt sure everyone knew when he came back with muddied clothes. But he'd had plenty of other falls since in front of the instructors here.
"Aren't they all just big spoiled rotten babies?" Marcel laughs. I know mine are. He strokes Wish's mane, running fingers through her neatly pulled mane. Shame. He really liked long manes, but with the show season upon them it was better to keep it short for the judges. Only Morgans, Friesians and Arabians seemed to get away with sporting long flowing locks. He keeps an eye to the stallion, not wanting him to get too antsy about getting near Wish. Not that he would in all likelihood, since she was not in season.
Jealous? Not many expressed jealousy about how he had been raised. Yes, the grounds were beautiful, and it was a unique opportunity. He belonged here, and it was home, now. But when he had first come here he would have rather been anywhere else. With maybe the exception of a juvenile prison facility. Marcel had wanted to run away back to the streets of New York City. He just couldn't figure out how it might be feasible, considering how far away it was. And then he had learned to live here, and love being here. "Yeah, it can be a bit interesting, growing up around here." He didn't specify the interesting as good or bad, because it had been both.
He laughs as she shows surprise at the mare's youth. "Oh, she is not always well behaved. She gave a good spook when we crested that hill and she saw you in front of us. But for the most part, she is pretty chill and willing to please. Happy go lucky sort." He'd only had her for a bit, so he wasn't sure if he would call it a bond. But he felt something on her. Whether it be peace, or just a thrill, who knew. "Well, he looks like a great first horse. Mori is my first horse. Though I rode horses while in school, they were chosen for me by others mostly. Mori I picked out when he was 2, almost 3." It was a staggering thought. He would be twenty come the winter. While he was trying to get a good education and do things right, he had no idea what was out there for him. He felt like an alien to anywhere outside the ranch now. Even at the community college. But those were worries for a different day.
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Post by Kathryn St Pierre on Feb 12, 2013 16:58:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 488 ( TAGGED ) MARCEL ( STATUS ) COMPLETE Eyeing Rum she nudged the stallion playfully. He was rather a large baby, though spoiled he was. He acted out when he didn't get a full morning's ride, and he was always playing with her hair even though he constantly got in trouble for it. Offering the stallion a smile she shrugged lightly. "I suppose I'm an enabler of sorts. I let him get away with it." The stallion reached past her toward the mare again, and this time she pushed him back gently. The stallion begrudging stepped back, his large black head tossing his hair around. His tail snapped, lashing against his hocks as he lowered his head toward the grass as if to graze.
"I wasn't able to grow up around horses." She offered, on a disappointed sigh. She had grown up in Seattle, a veritable city girl. That hadn't stopped her from nursing a love of the large mammals. Her entire life had been spent reading horse books and going to the zoo to watch the Zebras. Though the Zebras weren't the same, they were often the closest she could get to horses. In college she'd had a choice finally. Her mother lived a few hours from a college that had a large Equine program. She picked up riding the moment she entered, majoring in Equine Studies and the Stud program. She had loved every moment of it. Every moment but the ones that involved Riles. Shaking the thought from her mind, she tucked a few more loose strands of hair behind her ear and look at the mare. "I grew up in Seattle, so I never really got to see countryside as beautiful as this."
"She seems to be doing rather well for a youngster." She smiled as her glance moved over the landscape. It was rather beautiful country and this was certainly one of the things she'd been hoping for when she'd chosen Virginia. She hadn't exactly investigated the town or anything, but it was small and it excluded Riles and that was enough for her. The people seemed nice enough, even if she still had a desire to avoid them. Shifting, she curled her hand through Rum's mane, toying with the locks distractedly. "Rum can be horrible at times. The only time he is really relaxed would be for a few days after I really push him and wear him out. He seemed to enjoy the strain, for some reason." The stallion snorted, picking among the blades of grass almost sagely. She arched a brow at him, finding it it amusing how he was suddenly acting as if the mare didn't bother him. She knew that somewhere in his mind he was itching to get close and investigate the little girl. He wasn't very good at keeping himself in check or playing indifferent. Perhaps he though she was just going to relax and then he could pounce or act out and get his way.
Haha. Rum is a character unto himself. :3 |
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Marcel Toulouse
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Post by Marcel Toulouse on Feb 13, 2013 10:33:12 GMT -5
Wish was getting a bit curious as well, or at least bored and wanting something to do. She was well behaved and calm, not lifeless or a machine. She started to paw the ground, neck arched, antsy to either move or interact with the horse in front of her. Marcel nudges her softly over to get her to stop. "They each seem to know our little weaknesses and buttons. They always seem to find a way to get what they want, even if we try not to let them get away with it" agreeing with Kathryn, that he is probably the one that has allowed bad behavior within his horses to continue. But sometimes they were too cute or smart to punish it seemed.
To a certain extent, Marcel understood. He'd rarely even seen a horse living in New York City, and the ones he did see meant trouble and running, because they belonged to coppers. The mounted police would come through the parks where he occasionally hid and try to catch him, or chase him, or just yell at him. He was not much of a fan of horses back then. They gave too much of an advantage to his enemy. But he'd gotten lucky it seemed. At 13, they became his saviors instead of his enemies. They didn't chase him, though he sometimes chased them (mostly mischievous ponies being difficult at turn in). "I've never been to Seattle," he says,"But in New York City any interaction I had with horses was bad. But then, I was still young when I came here." He gives a half smile, wondering why they are dwelling on such depressing things as the past.
Wish yanked against the bridle in her mouth suddenly, offering to graze with the stallion. Probably some ploy to get her nose closer to his. And then squeal like a lunatic upon touching. No thanks. "I haven't had her long enough to know all her faults," he admits "but I'm sure she has them. And Mori seems cut from the same cloth as Rum, though perhaps a bit slower and more brazen. Subtle is not something that would ever describe him." He watches his mare's head, trying to figure out what she is going to do so he can divert her attention. He really doesn't want to be on her if she decides to go play with the large stallion. There are disadvantages to being mounted on a petite mare that he knows little about.
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