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Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
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Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Mar 1, 2024 16:03:19 GMT -5
"Then you should have gotten on the tractor sooner," Grace snapped. Then she waved off any other arguments any of them might make. "Let's go before I really do cancel the whole thing and just assign you all horses — or better yet, send you all home.”
Grace walked into the patio/entrance area between the two arenas and stopped. “Arena one and arena two,” she said, pointing to the left an right, respectively. “Arena one is typically used for Dressage, while arena two is for jumping. But both arenas are equipped to do both, so it's never a sure thing which one you'll be in on any given day. Same goes for the outdoor arenas. I'll be telling you where we'll be riding every day during tack-up.”
Grace turned to arena one, on the left. It had a half door, wide enough for a horse and rider to easily pass through. Both halves were shut until Grace unlatched the top half (there was no obvious latch or door handle for the bottom half). She only opened it a crack, however.
“Door!” she shouted, loudly enough to make Saylor jump. Grace opened the top door all the way, then reached inside to unlatch the bottom door.
Saylor and the others followed Grace inside.
It was dimmer in here, away from the sunlight. As Saylor's eyes adjusted, there were a handful of seconds when she could only see a few feet in any direction. What she could see was that she was standing on a short, sandy walkway. To either side were two rows of lawn chairs, separated from the track — which was wide enough for two horses side-by-side — by ankle-high fences fashioned after cavaletti jumps. And about ten feet ahead was a waist-high fence, also fashioned after jumping fences, with a gate allowing entrance to the main arena. And in that arena…
Saylor's eyes adjusted fully, and the drumming sound that filled the arena became clear: horses! Her heart gave an excited jump. There were seven of them, all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Each had a rider, and they were going around the arena, some at a walk, some a trot. They didn't seem to be following any orders or patterns that Saylor could see. Instead, each rider simply rode where they wanted to.
“Everyone, find a seat,” Grace said, for once speaking softly. Once everyone was seated, she explained what was going on. “These are your horses. The fourth-years here will be putting on a bit of a show for you. They're going to display each horse so you can see how they move, how they behave under saddle, and how they jump. At the end, you'll get to go out there and meet each one. You'll tell me which one you want, and I'll approve or deny it. If you're the only one who wants the horse, it's yours. If two or more of you fancy the same horse, then I decide who gets it and the rest will have to pick a different one. There will be no fighting, and no hard feelings. If I don't let you have the first horse you want, there is a very good reason. Clear?”
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Mar 10, 2024 16:40:17 GMT -5
Melanie had to admit, the arena was impressive. It reminded her a bit of the outside track that her family had to train the horses that would be used for racing. Of course, the track was bigger than the indoor arena, but both was set up with places for an "audience" to watch. Her father liked to claim that crowds could throw off a horse, make them more nervous about racing than the other horses besides them sometimes. So he liked to have as big of an audience as he could, as often as he could, to help get the horses accustom to noise and movement from the sidelines.
The arena looked similar, though she wasn't sure if there would be many audiences for their riding lessons or not. Filing away that question for a later time, she found her seat and sat with the others. The horses hadn't gone unnoticed to her, but she had waited until they were all seated before looking them over closely. They were all fine animals. Though they were all different breeds, it was clear each one was bred with performance and stability in mind. Even before the actual demonstration began, she knew any of them would be great choices to have. Their personalities would be the ultimate deciding factor of who would fit well with who. At least, in her opinion, that seemed how it might go.
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Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
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Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Mar 25, 2024 16:37:38 GMT -5
Saylor nodded along with everyone else, though she was finding it hard to focus on Grace. Her attention kept drifting to the horses. A couple of them had picked up a canter now, and even the biggest horse looked so smooth and graceful. All Saylor wanted to do was watch them.
And then, finally, she could. Grace stepped aside and walked up to the gate. She signaled someone, and it was then that Saylor registered the man standing in the center of the arena. He wore knee-high black riding boots, tan breeches, and a white short-sleeved polo shirt. He was watching the riders, but at Grace’s signal he nodded and gave a whistle.
Within a minute, all the riders had brought their mounts to a walk, and they moved to stand in a rough semi-circle around the man, who Saylor could only assume was their coach.
The man turned to face his audience. “Welcome, first-years. My name is Tony Hendrix. I'm the riding coach for the students you see before you. Five of them you'll see daily, as they are fourth-years here at the Academy. The other two graduated four years ago and are now assistant coaches here. I'd introduce you properly, but something tells me you're all more interested in the horses, eh?”
“Woo!” one of the guys shouted. Saylor didn't see which one, but she agreed wholeheartedly.
Coach Hendrix gave a wry smile. “As I thought. Therefore, you can get to know my students some other time. For now, let me explain what's going to be happening today.”
Hendrix started pacing, hands held behind his back. “One by one, my students will display a freestyle Dressage, and then jump a small course, which Grace and I will set up during intermission. The purpose of both is giving you all a look at what your potential horse is capable of.
“But a word of warning: these horses have spent the last year free roaming the high pasture. During that time they weren't groomed, fed, or ridden. They were living nearly wild. My students have spent the last two days retraining and preparing them for you. What you are about to see is the result of their hard work. And so, without further ado, I give you Aztec Gold.”
Immediately, six of the seven horses dispersed to one of the corners of the arena, leaving only one in the center. It was a beautiful gelding with a golden palomino coat. His mane and tail were long and wavy and a silken white that matched the blaze running down his elegant face. Three socks adorned his feet. He was gorgeous.
Saylor wanted him, but tried not to make any snap decisions. She knew she would feel this way about every horse in the arena.
The rider of the Appaloosa mare was a girl. It was hard to tell her age with her helmet on, but Saylor thought she was one of the fourth-years. The girl saluted her audience in typical Dressage fashion — a nod while one hand fell to her side, palm up — and then the music started.
Saylor was surprised. When Hendrix said “freestyle Dressage,” she hadn't realized he meant musical freestyle. But she wasn't about to complain; this was better.
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