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Post by jagger on Jul 14, 2009 17:14:14 GMT -5
Mirrah had risen early that morning; made her way to the large, airy barn she now happily called her home-away-from-home, and found her little mare waiting for her. Smiling cheerfully at Cherokee, she unhooked her halter from outside the stall and slid into the box, slowly raising her hand to halter the young mare and lead her out into the spacious aisleway.
Good mornin, lovey! She quipped, patting the red neck firmly and retrieving her brushes. Later, Cherokee would get a bath; but for the time being, a good grooming before tacking her up and taking her to the arena would be a good start. Making quick, methodical work of the grooming, she had the Quarter gleaming like a new penny in no time, pausing to brush out the tangles in her mane and forelock as well as her tail.
Now, don't mind me, missy. I'm just going to braid this up so it's not in the way today, mmkay? She nudged the mare lightly as she moved back to her hind quarters, brushing her tail aside and standing off the edge of her hip to brush and braid the long tendrils of hair.
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Post by harley on Jul 14, 2009 17:40:28 GMT -5
The already trusting mare nickered when she first heard the footsteps of a two-legged walk into the barn. Sticking her head out of the door, she kicked it with one of her front feet, imapatient and waiting for her breakfast to be served. When the human came into her stall, the first thing she checked was her hands, seeing if she had brought any food with her. Happy with the grooming, but dispointed with the lack of food, the mare snorted and rested a hind foot, relaxed with the presence of the new owner. She would now and always have a strong hate towards human men, for what her old owner did to her, and she was raised around mostly women. She flicked her tail when it was pulled to the side, upset with the sudden lack of the built-in fly repellent.
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Post by jagger on Jul 14, 2009 17:51:06 GMT -5
Listening to the mare's stomach growl, she chuckled, braiding the mass of hair and allowing it to hang against her hocks once more. Unearthing a carrot from her back pocket, she snapped it in half and offered it to the mare as a truce. Sorry honey. You'll get a big breakfast after we work for a bit, cool?
Retrieving her tack, she slid the lightweight, airy cotton pad up onto the mare's withers and smoothed it out, adjusting it to the proper position and checking to be sure it hung evenly on both sides: she was a bit obsessive-compulsive about her tack. Satisfied, she turned to the big roping saddle with it's tall back and cantle, slinging the stirrups up and out of the way as she hefted it's solid weight up onto Cherokee's broad back.
Adjusting the mass, she dropped the girth and reached around under the mare's belly to retrieve it, making quick work of a simple tye cinch and intentionally leaving it a little loose - no sense in tightening it up until she was ready to hop on board. She had a feeling the mare probably didn't need it; but they had a saying around her parts - Check your cinch twice, lunge once, and then ride. Draping her one-eared bridle and it's gentle curb bit over the saddle horn, she snapped a lunge line onto Cherokee's halter and clucked lightly, urging the mare toward the exit and the arena ahead.
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Post by harley on Jul 14, 2009 18:05:11 GMT -5
The mare stood solidly as the tack was put on her back, first the light pad, and then the heavy saddle. Flickering her ears, the mare happily followed the girl out of the stall door. She didn't mind the heavy tack on her back, she'd had worse, it was more her tail that bothered her. It was now shorter, and it didn't fray out, and she could actually feel it hitting her side. Being a horse, she couldn't tell the human her thoughts about the braided tail, well, she could, but the human wouldn't understand her, unless she was a horse whisperer or something, and those guys were rare.
OOC://Sorry it's short...\\
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Post by jagger on Jul 14, 2009 18:15:32 GMT -5
Entering the arena, she checked her girth and tightened it a bit - just to stop it from sliding around while she lunged - and then thought better of it. The mare probably never had been lunged before; at least, not in true fashion, and it might just snap her back to being in her past situation. Shrugging, she unhooked the halter and slid it down on her neck, retrieving the bridle to bit the mare up. Wedging her thumb in the corner of Cherokee's mouth, she clicked, sliding the bit in as the mare finally opened.
Adjusting the throat latch and chin strap accordingly and checking the wrinkles at the corners of the dun's mouth, Mirrah took a deep breath, drawing her split reins up over the mare's head. Dropping her stirrups, she tucked her toe into the left stirrup, bounced once and swung up, settling gently on board the young mare. Hands tucked to her bellybutton, she waited patiently for anything Cherokee might throw at her, confident in her ability to sit just about any situation.
Good girl... good mama. Ready to work now? Let's see what ya know.
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Post by harley on Jul 14, 2009 18:27:30 GMT -5
The little mare took the bit beautifully, checking the bit to see if it had a copper roller to keep her busy when stading still, with no luck. Waiting patiently for a command after the reins were slipped over her head, she saw the girl's foot going into the stirrup and froze, ears to the back of her head. It wasn't a move for aggression, more to help her listen to any commands from her rider. She was broke, and stood still, taking one small step forward to balance herself better. Swishing her tail, she stood, waiting for the next move. Luckily, her old owner was never informed that she was broke, so he never even attempted to get anyone on her back, as he thought that all horses were big ol' crazed animals that could kill him. He thought that the only thing horses were good for was mowing down the lawn, but he quickly replaced them with sheeps and goats when he learned that his small herd of four could do.
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Post by jagger on Jul 14, 2009 19:17:29 GMT -5
Settling lightly into the saddle once she had established the little mare wouldn't explode on her, she nudged her gently with her heel, hips rocking forward and kissing lightly to ask for a polite walk. She veered toward the outside rail of the arena, and once the little dun had complied, allowed her to walk a lap or two without pestering her at all, her hands light and loose on the reins.
After a few minutes, she was positive the mare had to be bored of this - she was. What do you say we speed it up a bit? Clicking slightly, she leaned back on her pockets for balance and tapped her heels again against the mare's barrel, cuing her for a rapid, extended trot. Her arms lengthened automatically and she stood slightly in the stirrups to avoid bouncing unnecessarily.
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Post by harley on Jul 14, 2009 21:10:23 GMT -5
Chero walked along at a slow pace, her tail moving from side to side with the beat of her walk, her head at her natural headset, which was luckily level with her withers, which was prefect for many, if not all, Western diciplines. When asked to trot, she moved into a choppy movement, tripping at certain points in the ring, both most likely caused by her over-grown feet. Her head stayed level, not pulling on the reins, her head slightly tucked in, her nose out just a point. Her strides were short and choppy now, but what would happen once she got her feet trimmed? Would she lengthen her stride and become smoother, or keep the choppy, short-stepping gaits?
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Post by jagger on Jul 14, 2009 22:40:24 GMT -5
To say the gait was uncomfortable was an under statement. Noting her trips and stumbles; Mirrah made a mental note to see Ms. Taylor, the blacksmith, later today and schedule an appointment. Mind back to her riding, Mirrah settled herself in the saddle and sat deep. Another reset of her hands and she asked the mare to tuck her chin inward a bit more, heels moving back to touch her sides gently as she pressured the mare for an extended, western pleasure trot. Long feet or otherwise; the mare should be able to lengthen her stride and make the trot a bit more comfortable.
Mission Accomplished! As the mare's stride lengthened accordingly - which was the only thing it could do given the cue Mirrah had given - she again readjusted her reins and clicked her tongue, asking for a lope. She allowed herself to bounce slightly in the saddle until she found the mare's natural rhythm, hips swinging along with her. She was comfortable; this was her element. Patting the mare's neck proudly, she scratched her withers. Good girl! She praised, allowing the mare to continue around the arena for another lap.
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Post by harley on Jul 14, 2009 23:47:32 GMT -5
The mare had happily lengthened her stride, going along in a smoother, more collected trot. She tucked her nose in accordingly, one ear swivling back to listen to any more of the rider's ques. At the lope, she was collected and slow, but still moving along at a pace that was faster than her trot, but a couple notches slower than her working lope, which is just a few notches slower than her gallop. Nose still tucked in, and head still level with her withers she went around the arena once more, before slowing her pace down a bit to a bouncy trot, them stopped right in her tracks, ears perked towards the north side of the arena, where a dog was barking. Huffing and raising her head, she just stood there, plastered to the spot, looking at this creature she had never even heard before, let alone seen. The weird noise it made spooked her, but it was no more than a sidestep to the left.
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Post by jagger on Jul 15, 2009 12:09:35 GMT -5
Chuckling slightly, Mirrah poised for any step of disaster, patting the mare's neck firmly as the little dun surveyed the dog with quiet trepidation. Allowing her time to process, she clicked her tongue, using one heel to request a sidestep away from the rail. Once accomplished, Mirrah patted her neck firmly again, re-directing the mare's attention. What is that, eh? Kinda scary at first, huh? She cooed gently to the horse beneath her, unconcerned and a little pleased by the mare's reaction.
Just a dog, mama, no big deal. Another tongue click and she squeezed her knees, requesting the mare move into a walk and eventually a trot once more.
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Post by harley on Jul 15, 2009 15:57:13 GMT -5
The mare snorted when asked to move one, but eventually did. She moved into a smoother jog this time, picking up her feet higher than before, her stride longer. One ear pointed to where the dog was previously, and one to the side, listening to her rider, she moved right along, only a little leg needed to keep her going. OOC://No muse, sorry  \\ |
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Post by jagger on Jul 15, 2009 23:29:31 GMT -5
[ ooc - me either. it's okay. lol ]
Another quick pat to the mare's neck and withers as she politely complied, using her heels to request another canter. Judging by the mare's lack of tripping - and given that her feet, though overgrown, were probably hard as nails - she figured some speed may be just what they both needed. After completing another lap uninterrupted by the now no-doubt disinterested mutt, Mirrah flattened herself against Cherokee's neck, tucking her toes inward to the dun's armpits as she hissed gently to the little mare. May as well open 'er up, she what she's got. "Tssss... go!" She clucked her tongue for emphasis, burying her fingers in mane.
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Post by harley on Jul 16, 2009 14:47:30 GMT -5
Cherokee snorted, performing the three-beat speed rather beautifully. Looks like the little mare had some training in her, but just the basics to any dicipline, backing, walk, trot, jog, canter, lope, gallop. She loved to work, and expressed that in her willingness to do anything for her handler, no matter how they asked it.
Keeping a steady pace at the lope, she pricked her ears forward when the woman hissed from her back, and her forward-stance told the mare to go faster, and the hissing noise told her the speed. Taking off at a quick, but controlled, gallop, the mare rounded the corners of the arena happily, not making them too sharp, which could end in injury to either herself or her rider, or slowing down too far, which would take away from the fun of it.
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Post by jagger on Jul 18, 2009 22:52:23 GMT -5
After a few laps at this new rapid clip, Mirrah began serpentines, asking the mare to bend and flex, weaving through imaginary poles and snaking around imaginary barrels at a lope. Relaxing her position; Mirrah directed the mare to a straight away, darting her across the arena before she sat back on her pockets, sitting deep and low, her legs kicked out in a silent request for a stop - sliding, if the mare knew how. Her reins hardly twitched backward on the bit and one hand came up instinctively to hang onto her hat for the sudden loss of momentum. "Halt!" She cried along with her body language, emphasizing the need for an immediate decrease in speed. [blah sorry.  ] |
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