Grayson hadn't gone far, just enough to look like he has a purpose besides watching Athena ride. Besides, he knew the grounds almost as much as his own at home. Once he is done outside, he lingers near the row of turnout charts and other papers tacked to the wall in the tack room, pretending to read the same laminated sheet twice. Ryx’s name is listed neatly under Temporary Boarders. He jots down more information on feed, schedules for his training, and the like on the respective sheets. All details he doesn't really need to re-confirm, but it gives his hands something to do and keeps him from drifting aimlessly around the barn.

The sound of hoofbeats on gravel makes him glance up. Athena rounds the corner with Gypsy in tow, the mare’s coat darkened along the neck and flanks. Even from a distance he can tell she has worked the horse hard, yet the walk still has too much power in it, like Gypsy is debating trotting again just to prove she is not tired. The mare’s ears flick sharply, her steps energetic and impatient, and it strikes Grayson again how much presence Gypsy carries even when cooling down. He never noticed it in the show ring.

He stays put, partly because moving now would make it seem like he is avoiding her, partly because he is not sure if she even wants conversation. Their interactions have always hovered somewhere between obligation and formality, two people who understand the same world but not necessarily each other. Though he supposes he should remain cordial if he is to stay here while they rebuild, no sense in being an inconsiderate guest.

Athena passes him in the aisle without comment, focused entirely on settling her mare. He watches just long enough to see her clip Gypsy into the crossties before forcing himself to look away. He folds the chart back into place, pretending the neat organization of the board is more interesting than it truly is. The soft rhythm of her untacking process drifts over his shoulder. The subtle jingle of buckles, the mare’s quick exhale as the girth loosens. They fill the aisle with a gentle cadence he knows by memory, each motion predictable in the best way.

Grayson exhales slowly. He should probably leave, she probably doesn't want to be bothered. Jason would expect him to get settled before their first meeting tomorrow, and he still has not actually confirmed where he is sleeping. But walking away feels like admitting his presence is an inconvenience, and Athena does not strike him as the type who wants people tiptoeing around her.

“You want a hand?” he asks, stopping a polite distance away. His tone is easy, neutral. The kind they both default to when navigating the narrow middle ground of almost-acquaintances, "Ryx has already been exercised before the drive over so I've got some free time before his ride."

He does not force a smile, but the softness at the edge of his expression is genuine. Helping with a bath is not beneath him. Besides, he's not trying to be unfriendly, just a little socially awkward at times, especially with those he doesn't quite know.

“And… uh,” he adds after a beat, clearing his throat as if the words are heavier than they should be, “if you have got a minute later, I should probably figure out where I am staying. Just point me in the right direction.”

☆°~Athena Carter~°☆

Athena fiddled with Gypsy's bridle, putting the martingale behind the bridle and tying both up in a figure eight. Then she unhooks the mare's leadrope and hooks it to her halter, and finally undoes her from the crossties. Gyspy seems to have cooled off more by now, walking a slower pace behind Athena. She tugs out her phone as she walks along the halls of the stables, changing the song playing in her ear to Spectrum(Say My Name) by Florence + The Machine, which, personally, was one of her favorites. She shoves her phone back into her pants pocket and continues on. The wash-stalls weren't too far, but the stables were also kind of large. So she had to walk a moment. She rounded the corner and finally reaches the wash stalls, stepping inside and spinning Gypsy around with a lose leadrope.

Athena ties the buckskin into the crossties there and pats the mares neck. She is, sadly, interrupted from her peace by Graysons voice. She glances over at him, raising an eyebrow at the man. She resisted the urge to look him over and interogate him. She doesn't hate him, she just... doesn't really talk with him. She turns back around to go get the hose, stepping around Gypsy.

"I don't need any help. Thank you. Give me a moment then I can show you where you'll be staying."

She states, nodding to herself. Hosing Gypsy off shouldn't take that long. She flicked the hose on, waiting until the water warmed to a comfortable warm leaning-cold feel. She sprayed the hose along Gypsy's back, taking her time to wash the sweat off of her coat. Luckily, she was done fairly quickly. She wet a rag too and wiped down Gypsy's face of sweat, mostly around her ears, which was slightly difficult as the mare was set on lifting her head as high as possible.

"Brat."

Athena murmured lovingly under her breath, hanging up the rag and grabbing a purple squeegie from the metal shelf. She began squeegie-ing the mare, getting all the excess water from under her coat. That also did not take long and soon enough she was unclipping Gypsy from the crossties and leading her to her stall. The stall was large with the small fenced area in the back open for her to go out to. The gate wasn't open to the pasture though, as the old, crankky ponies were out currently and they don't really get along. She steps into Gypsy's stall, kicking up shavings as she turns the both of them around and slides Gypsy's halter off. The mare stares at her a second longer before turning away and ducking her head to nibble at her hay(which had dropped while they were riding). She finally turned to Grayson, closing and latching the stall behind her.

"Come on. It's not far from here."

Athena instructs, turning and gesturing for Grayson to follow her. As she walked, she couldn't help glancing sideways at Grayson. She was a little jealous. Grayson getting such an extraordinary trainer... Not that she could really complain, she wasn't back to showing material yet. 'Maybe in a few more months', yeah sure Doc. Thanks. Point was- she was both glad for Grayson and extremely annoyed at herself. She got to the stairs, the ones leading to the loft/apartment above the barn, and began walking up them.

"You'll be staying here. It's pretty much a mini apartment, minus the rent. Sadly."

She added in, not really for attempted humour, but because this was kind of, just a little bit awkward. Like mentioned before, not actually friends. She takes the keys off the hook by the door and unlocks the loft door, pushing it open and coughing slightly as dust invades her nose. Eugh. It's really not dusty on the inside, just on the barn side mostly. The loft/apartment was nice. She used to have sleepovers up here with Julia and Annabelle sometimes, back when they were young and dumb. She very hurriedly pushed those memories away. Stepping further inside so Grayson could follow she began giving him a mini tour.

"There are two bedrooms, one bathroom, theres the living area, theres the kitchen. I'll leave the keys here, though I will let you know my mom and dad have a key for up here too. Oh, also a storage closet thataway for whatever you may need."

The living room was small, a blue and grey shceme, a slightly droopy couch, big windows that have a view of the pastures and the lake. The bedrooms had the same large windows, one with a view of the same pastures, the other with a view of the arena she had been riding in earlier. The bathroom was small, but had a bath and a shower, along with a small, high window for light. Even the kitchen was more of a full kitchen then a kitchenette with an oven, fridge, microwave, etc.

She turns away from the memories and the loft/apartment and sets the key on the counter with a jingle of said key and a hum. Then she steps out of the apartment and sighs, running a hand through her hair and making a face. Her hair was a sweaty, poofy mess in even the slight humidity. Damn. She needed a shower too now. Maybe she'd just take one down here in the barn bathroom. She didn't especially want to go back up to the house currently. Really, she wanted to go ride bareback. Whichhhh she could do. And which would probably be a good idea to do before showering. She'll go grab Winston, he's not doing anything other then being retired anyway.

Grayson follows her up the narrow stairs, each step creaking softly beneath their weight. The air changes as they rise, warmer and faintly scented with hay and soap, the familiar undercurrent of the barn lingering even here. Athena opens the door without ceremony and steps aside, letting him enter first.

The living room is small but deliberate, done in blues and greys that soften the space rather than crowd it. A couch sits against one wall, its cushions slightly droopy in a way that suggests it has been used often and without apology. Grayson’s attention is drawn immediately to the windows. They are larger than he expects, stretching wide and unobstructed, framing the pastures and arenas.

She moves ahead, showing him the rest without fanfare, and he follows without question. The bedrooms mirror the living space in their simplicity, each anchored by the same generous windows. The rest falls into place; bathroom, kitchen, and the likes. Grayson lets out a slow breath, shoulders easing as the reality of it settles. He can already picture the rhythm of his days fitting neatly into these rooms. Albeit slow and dreary, there is hope.

His host leaves him to his own devices, and after pocketing the keys, his thoughts drift back to the barn, to Ryx waiting below. Though he was excerside enough to handle the drive over, Grayson knows it isn't enough for the horse. He makes his way back downstairs, collecting grooming supplies and a lead from his tack locker. The black horse pops his head up quickly, ears locked on his owner as the man enters the stall. Bay hangs from the gelding's mouth mid-chew.

"Hey, good boy. Ready for a ride?" Ryx moves forward, pushing into the man's space to sniff at pockets and the grooming box for treats. Finding none, Ryx pins his ears but stands as Grayson makes quick work of grooming the horse. He didn't feel like taking up a wash stall to talk up, not when tensions already seemed off.

Once the horse is shiny, he clips a lead to the halter and leads him out. He finds a cross-tie, clipping it into the halter as he leaves to collect his tack. It doesn't take long for everything to be collected, placed, and buckled. Grayson leads the gelding outside to a mounting block, hopping on in a swift motion.

Ryx senses the change, ears pricked and eyes watching as they make their way towards an arena. A few jumps had been left out, perfect for what Grayson wanted to do. He keeps the reins loose at first, letting the horse settle into the space, feeling the rhythm of each step travel up through the saddle. Ryx moves forward willingly, ears flicking, attentive without being tense. It is a good place to start. Grayson keeps his aids quiet and precise as he asks for a trot. They circle once, twice, working through bending lines, shallow loops, transitions within the gait. Once he feels satisfied with their warm up, Grayson urges the gelding faster.

The stride is easy, ground covering without rushing. Grayson adjusts him with half halts, asking the hind end to engage, asking the shoulders to stay light. They move down the long side and across the diagonal, the rhythm steady, unbroken.

Ryx's canter has always been smooth, and as Grayson angles them toward a small line set near the center of the arena, he truly appreciates it. The first approach is bumpy, the gelding getting ahead of himself on the approach, but Ryx still lifts himself cleanly over the crossrail. The vertical follows without hesitation, this one better than the first. Grayson adds more effort to the jumps until each is taken in stride, jumped clean. Ryx meets it all easily, pushing from behind, landing soft.

After a few rounds Grayson settles the horse into a cool down walk, reigns dropped as he answers messages and updates friends on the situation. After a while he dismounts, tending to the gelding and settling in in for the evening before heading back upstairs to unpack his belongings.