<font color=silver>..-lessons learned years past.. guess they really didn't last-..</font> --

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Date Posted: 01:35:26 04/12/03 Sat
Author: erica
Subject: ..-lessons learned years past.. guess they really didn't last-..

She enters the stable quietly, though instead of doing the normal Erica routine of visiting her horses she goes into the tack room and digs out her chaps, helmet, and boots from the bottom of her tack trunk. She changes her shoes there and slips on the too-long chaps, just setting the helmet on her head for now. She opens up Jubilee's box and brings out the light exercise saddle, a nice pad, his girth, the D-ring snaffle open nosed bridle of his, his wraps, and the tray of brushes. With her arms full she sets the saddle down on a rack near the cross ties, hangs the bridle on a nearby peg, drops the wraps, and sets down the tray. She moves in the direction of the blood bay colt's stall and leads him out, murmuring gently to him as her hands find his halter and quickly slids it upon his head. She leads the tall colt out of his stall and clips him into the ties before going to work on him. She grooms him thoroughly and then starts to wrap his legs, dusting them off lightly before running the brush over the expanse of the leg. She wraps quickly and snugly, not a wrinkle in her work. She does each leg before laying the pad upon his back, and then the saddle. She attaches the girth and raises it to the first hole - sure she'd go up later. She lifts the bridle to his head and slips it on quickly with light fingers. She turns him and leads him out to the track, completely calm around the animal - everything gone for now. She tightens his girth while holding him in place, moving to pull down the irons while she slips the reins over his head. She gets a nice leg up from the rail and settles deeply in the saddle, her feet finding the short stirrups as her hands adjust to the reins - fingers wiggling a bit as the colt works his mouth. She clucks a bit and asks him onto the track, her post light and assured, her hands soft yet firm. After a nice long warm-up the blond haired girl dips forward in the saddle, her weight resting upon her knees and down in her heels. She inches her hands forward upon his neck slightly, giving him a bit of rein as she keeps contact with his mouth, her features set with concentration, yet one of those eery calms brooding there. She shifts her weight back in the saddle, using her weight to slow and accelerate the horse. She pats his neck as he comes to a walk, letting a soft little hum come forward from light vocal chords. She turns him on the forehand and asks him to walk up to the gate. He enters with a slight need of encouragement, standing patiently as the girl laces her fingers in his mane, her shoulders tipped forward so that she couldn't be 'left behind'. As the bell rings and gate doors flip open she kneads her hands into his crest and clucks. Her small little form tight to his back and moving with him as she guides him with a slight touch to the inside rail. She lets herself go when it comes to this. The animal was using those very long legs of his to pull himself forward with gigantic strides. Hands were following the movement of his head, as if made from rubber. Yes - this is what had been missing from her for so long.. Not doing this had been like losing a part of herself; and boy-oh-boy.. no one knew quite how much that hurt. She smiles while she's on that horse, it may not be her horse, but she smiles with such finality that it was almost scary.. Erica Moore is back.

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Replies:

.doing.the.thing.you.love. -- .owen., 20:16:57 04/12/03 Sat
- .the thing I love. -- Erica, 20:22:43 04/12/03 Sat
  - .tears.and.fears. -- .owen., 20:33:55 04/12/03 Sat
    - .they aren't here.. -- Erica, 20:40:10 04/12/03 Sat
      - .casper.?. -- .owen., 20:52:41 04/12/03 Sat
        yeah.. sure, they can be like casper. -- Erica, 21:00:24 04/12/03 Sat
        .i.no.like.you. -- .owen., 21:22:30 04/12/03 Sat
        .aww.. -- Erica, 21:28:42 04/12/03 Sat
        .ugh.horse.ugh. -- .owen., 23:25:26 04/12/03 Sat
        my horsie rules. -- Erica, 23:46:41 04/12/03 Sat
        .you.rule.not.the.horse. -- .owen., 20:08:51 04/13/03 Sun
        150% of the time.. -- Erica, 03:23:18 04/14/03 Mon
        .nothing.to.say. -- .owen., 04:15:46 04/14/03 Mon
        change of subject -- Erica, 04:37:27 04/14/03 Mon