Ceri Vaughn | 19 | D | Moriarty | Reyes

Ceri marched away from the paddock as quickly as she could muster, an icily set expression covering her face. She had bought Moriarty as a training project the year before, since any previously dressage-trained horse was either way out of her budget or way under her expectations. After months of dragging out her trainer to horse-hunt with her almost every weekend - even after riding for over a decade, she didn't trust her opinion enough to spend her savings on it - she had found Mor. His flashy, penny-bright coat had caught her wandering attention almost immediately, as he cantered impetuously around the pasture he was sharing with the two other prospective buys. Once she had greeted all of them - Roman, a seal bay Thoroughbred who was just coming out of his health rest; Dire Straits, the light bay Hanoverian; and Mor - the decision was settled: Moriarty would be coming home with them. As an avid Sherlock fan, his name itself seemed like fate.

Now, with little change of his wild temperament in the fourteen months since she bought him, her decision didn't seem so obviously perfect as it had that blissful winter day. He was everything that she wasn't looking for: hard to get on the bit, ill-tempered around most other horses, and smaller than she'd wanted. It wasn't as if she was scared of commitment. She'd owned a pony when she was younger, and leased countless horses throughout the years. No, this was a Moriarty problem.

Pulling her windbreaker tighter - everything she owned always seemed to hang slightly too loose - Ceri barely noticed the young man almost tall enough to rival his handsome grey mount until she was directly across from them. The rustle of papers first alerted her of their presence, the sound alien-sounding in its current environment.

For some reason, that irritated her. Usually, she simply judged from afar without involving any of her mismatched emotions, but this was too much. What exactly was he playing at, sitting peacefully - unsafely, she thought gleefully - in the middle of a random field in a random country in one of the most random planets, and not even take the effort to at least try look decent?

As she almost tripped in the heavily pot-holed slosh that may or may not have once resembled a path (at this point, no one could tell) Ceri swore under her breath softly. It definitely wasn't on her daily planner to cover herself in mud, but judging by the way everything had already gone, that slip of paper had long been thrown out of the window by fate.

Sorry for the rushed post, just wanted to get this up so the lesson isn't held up. And I'm on my phone, hence the length.

Aaron Franklin | 21 | HJ/E/D | Lesson crew

Aaron grinned unabashedly at Tim's giraffe comment, shaking his head with a rueful glance at the instructor. "Think he's forgotten what species he is today." He put the slightest extra pressure on the bit while he complied with the instructions, slowing down the stallion's antsy high-stepping walk.

After thoroughly warming up and riding through Afrika's various hijinks until he shapeshifted back into the horse he blatantly denied existed, the sharp thwack of a whip brought both of their attention back to Tim. Aaron didn't think he had ever seen Tim use it on anything other than his boot or the occasional unfortunate fence, but he clearly enjoyed the power he had with it.

"-doesn't mean you can flip around like a break dancer."

Aaron nodded curtly at Tim and gathered his reins, turning Afrika in a wide circle towards the small bounces. The stallion was finally ignoring the other horses, having clearly decided that they weren't about to leap out and eat him. From the tail swishes he was sending their direction for the duration of Tim's speech, Aaron guessed he wasn't against a role switch.

"C'mon." The lanky teen nudged his mount from a working trot into a canter, the Nooitgedachter's strides eating up the ground. He was eager to move forward, ears pricked as his hooves pounded on the arena's sand. Aaron sat back, collecting him with his seat and body language to try bring him back into a steadier speed, before they reached the obstacles.

Surprisingly, Afrika responded relatively well. Although his head was still arched forward and he was very much on the bit, he had submitted to Aaron's light pressure on the outside rein. Whatever could be said about the headstrong stud did not include lack of ability - his willingness, though, came through in lulls and bursts, depending on his mood on that particular day.

Aaron leaned into his jump seat as Afrika picked up his hooves to clear the small jump, moving his hands up the horse's neck to allow him some headspace. The pole rattled alarmingly loudly as the blue Roman's back hooves clipped it, somehow staying in the cups. He had an irritating habit of forgetting about his hind end after jumping, even if the obstacle was barely more than a glorified ground pole like this one.

The next two were better, Afrika leaning into his hocks as he gathered himself up for the coming bounce. His rhythm was better, settling into the bouncy canter stride that Aaron was keeping him at. He took the right cross rail with ease, although his form flattened out as they cleared it.

"Good boy." Aaron dropped one hand to pat his mount's neck, a badly disguised smile splitting his face. On days like these, he remembered what motivated him to ride in the beginning. The bliss, the pure satisfaction as you completed a clear round; eyes streaming at a flat-out gallop, temporarily blinded; a nudge in the back while unraveling, your horse staring expectantly at you for a treat.

[Not 100% sure whether you want them to go one at a time, one round at a time; or all at once without stopping in between. Wrote two rough scenarios, just let me know which one it is so I can edit out the unnecessary one]

-Slowing first to a trot, and then a walk, they halted just beside the others. It was definitely not the greatest of rides, but for where Afrika was with his training, Aaron was satisfied.-

-Drawing Afrika back from his flattened canter, Aaron kept his leg off the blue Dian's belly as they changed rein. The stallion needed nothing more than a wisp of encouragement to slow down, and for now, his rider preferred to keep him collected and bouncy while they prepared for the next round.-

Conrad Fairfield | 28 | SJ Instructor | Open

Conrad Fairfield was never late. Whether it was an international competition or a low-key social visit, he always found himself fashionably early, to the point where he would waste time upon arrival to make it less blatantly obvious. It was second nature by now to allow much more time than would probably be necessary, after the countless times he'd had an emergency that threw the timing out of balance.

Which is why, as he drove purposefully down the winding country road that led to the farm, he found it unsettling that he was a full twenty minutes behind schedule. The Australian had left early that morning from his generous hosts - apparently his Olympic status made it worthwhile to house him and his house for two nights for next to nothing - even so, they were still driving at 3pm.

Admittedly, they'd stopped at Richmond for half an hour or so to give both Conrad and Verity time to stretch their legs, but it should have left ample time to arrive at White Oaks by 2:45 at the latest. Clearly, he had underestimated Virginia's roads' lengths and conditions.

The truck finally pulled into the arched gateway, its driver glancing down at his watch as he did so. 3:06. Damn it. That left him approximately twenty-four minutes to get his horse situated and thirty minutes to shower and unpack, in order to ride his training project - Jest, he recalled briefly - and Veri, before it got too dark.

Releasing the clutch as he brought his truck to a halt, Conrad stepped out of the vehicle and closed the door with a hard slam. His hair rustled in its tight plait as he walked towards the back, swinging against his back with the movement.

A sharp thunk rang out across the car park as he lowered the ramp, quickly untying its cargo. A dark red-chestnut nose emerged first as he led her out, nostrils flaring inquisitively at her new surroundings. This was soon followed by a delicately cupped face, arched forward, and then the rest of the mare's powerful body. Her coat rippled as she moved clearly, muscles clear beneath her clipped winter coat. Her Selle Français bloodline was obvious to see with just a glance, from her broad forehead to the powerfully-built hocks that hinted at her showjumping career. She released a soft snort, one ear pricked forward while the other flicked between the various new sights and sounds. Conrad, naturally, was not on her to-be-seen list.

He found her stall quickly, after checking the map Kholo, the barn owner, had sent him. Verity began attacking the haynet that'd been waiting in her stall as soon as they entered, standing peacefully as he took off her various travelling tack and gave her a once-over with a curry comb.

"There you go, girl." Conrad patted her neck, latching the door as he slipped out of the stall. He sneaked a glance at his watch, leaning against the wooden divider for a moment. 3:29. Finally, he was following his adjusted schedule almost perfectly. Now, to pick up his room's keys and get himself sorted out.

-Heather would be back at the barn since she had recovered from surgery for a couple of days. The brunette would be hiding somewhere in the pasture, her back leaning against the tree trunk as she was sitting on the soft grass. She missed Mystery dearly, heart broken that the mare didn't make it from the car crash-

-Storm would be grazing next to fence line while Toby laid right next to the woman, his head resting on her lap as he was taking a snooze, quite happy to have his owner back home. Heather let out a sigh before scrolling through her phone, looking at some pictures while debating if she should get another horse or not-

Sandra Proudstorm | 19 | Show Jumper | The Great Rebellion "Shade" | School Horse: WO Legend Rise "Legend" | M: Open

-Sandra would be in the Jumping arena with Shade, riding the Stallion around before jumping over one obstacle to the next. The young woman gently patted the day bay's neck while quietly telling him "Good boy". She would be practicing for quite some time now-

-The dark haired woman let out a sigh before bringing Shade to a halt then dismounts, getting the reins over his head before leading him back to the barn to get him cleaned up so he can have some pasture time with the other horses-

Over here, the weather was far more pleasant, but there was also a slight breeze in the air that made him pull his jacket closer around himself. Having stepped outside, the young male was shocked into silence, his lips parted slightly in awe. He'd gone abroad many times, and still, every time was even more magical than the last. The busy crowd that flooded past him became little more than a blur as those stunningly blue orbs zoomed into the fields that stretched out beyond the wired walls of the airport.