Heather Proudstorm | 21 | Eventer | Titanium "Storm" and Open | School Horse: WO Descendants Of Khan "Khan" | M: Olivia, Tryst, Open

Louis | Dublin, Amara

The shorter male's response didn't quite take him by surprise, but it also didn't not make him surprised. Louis had been expecting a prickly personality that is harder to approach, but he was always shocked when he talks to those exact people, because their level of prickliness was always boss-level savage. There was always something to be learnt, and in his opinion, prickly people were the best teachers, namely because they don't ever accept the role but lead by example.

Putting on an innocent expression, with the wide eyes and slight pout, Louis gave a shrug, lifting his hands into an I-don't-know position. "I didn't realise either; you're a very good actor. I was an elf at one point - a very good-looking, sexy elf with that ridiculously transparent top - and I think I rocked it. Not that I would ever want to see the videos of that play again."

Noticing the other's discomfort, it struck him that it was probably highly awkward to be listening to something people would never openly divulge in their lifetime, especially not in their first conversation. Not that it mattered too much for Louis. He'd much rather have said people know the personal parts of his life than the superficial exterior.

And this unusual, weird being was also entertaining to quite the degree, what with Dublin's slightly skewed sense of normality. In that the older male also seemed to smoke, judging by the distinct smell of the air - cigarettes, tobacco, probably tobacco. Most young people tend to drop the habit once they mature and realise that being some sort of Teenage Toilet Troll isn't cool. And for someone who seemed to have a nervous disposition, and/or maybe a shy one, as evidenced by the fidgeting of his pale hands and the awkward silence that lingered for a second more than necessary, his defensive behaviour was his immediate response. Which implied a possible lack of self-confidence. Better to help a fellow than to ruin him, as the saying goes.

"Sooo, how do you spell your name? Dublin like the city? Odd name, but I like it. How should I save you on the phone? I can't have Weird Ghost - that's already bagged - but I definitely can have a Moody Ghost." Looking up from the unlocked phone screen, Louis allowed himself to bring back the cheeky grin for a moment, before clearing his throat and glancing away to settle the awkward reaction.

"I don't mind helping you around the place for a bit, show you what's what. You kind of looked a little lost earlier. You don't have my number, do you? We'll have to change that immediately," Drawing a business card out of his back pocket, Louis double-checked the number on the card before offering it out, "That number's mine. So, make sure you save me. I love it when people stroke my ego, but saving me as Louis 's alright too."

A distinct frown came across Louis' face as he gave a once-over of Dublin. Without hesitation, he placed his hands on the other's shoulders and shook them slightly, his mind clearly absorbed by something that was bothering him. "You need to release the tension in your shoulders or you'll end up looking like an old prune. Imagine those wrinkles. Pensioner at thirty - not an attractive look I imagine."

"And you'll have to realise, I tend to be quite tactile, so you'll have to remind me a lot to not give you a hug and all, if you don't want it." Having always been fond of hugs and physical contact, it usually is a subconscious decision when he gives a hug, and one he didn't repress if not asked to.

In this moment, a girl comes up and gives a break to the conversation, though not in a way that implied a sense of social sensitivity. Or maybe because she was absolutely, totally attracted to Dublin, was she standing smack-bang in the middle of the two, with the back of her head facing Louis? Her appearance seemed high-maintenance, and while she was stunningly pretty in a foreign, tanned kind of way, her pick-up line seemed anything but refined.

Stifling the laughter that threatened to bubble out, Louis pressed his lips firmly together and looked upwards, admiring the blue hues in the sky. No way was he going to say anything.

But the temptation was too great. Placing a hand on her head, he swung his tall frame down so that his eyes were focusing on her profile. "I'm sure Dublin here fully appreciates the offer, but I've got to say, I have first dibs. I was just about to take the knee and offer a ring when you interrupted us."

Dublin | M: Louis, Amara

Now that was really something. The mental image of Louis being provocatively festive lingered for much longer than it should've. Dublin could hardly tell if he was interested or terrified, only that he desperately hoped no one could read his mind. It wouldn't go away.

His ensuing silence was not deliberate; over and over he opened his mouth to speak, only to lose any words he had thought of. He even shut one eye and rolled the other around as if he was trying to look closely at an idea in the distance, like it'd help whatsoever. Obviously it didn't. The tension throughout his body was becoming increasingly painful, and a deep frustration set in heavy. One wrong smidge and he knew his top would blow.

Yet Louis didn't seem to notice, or more likely he just didn't care. Every time he swooped in to carry the conversation and save the day, a wave of relief slapped the smaller guy silly. Dublin found himself fully at this acquaintance's mercy, guided smoothly like he were the water in a glass Louis was tipping side to side. If he could ever be honest with himself, he'd have to admit he was beginning to like this, forever swaying in the breeze of the man's loud amiability. Even if he threw a mad fuss and tried to make this stop, Dublin wondered if Louis would skip a single beat.

When he'd began staring at him fluttery like a lost puppy, he wasn't sure. By far, he hadn't let his guard down, and the tension still ripped through him without remorse. But he was starting to think he could relax a bit which, as small as that may seem, was actually a huge step for someone as jumpy and prickly as Dublin could be. Especially with the elf thing still in mind.

Oh, what was that now? Hands on his shoulders? This was something that brought a whirl of confusion. People didn't tend to use any sort of contact with him. He figured he just appeared gross-- figuratively, at least-- like he'd just bathed in a grimy puddle of social toxicity and a pub's dumpster fluids. That's how he felt, at least. But here Louis was offering soap, so to speak. It just didn't make sense. Especially not when paired with what he said-- was he being caring, or was it time for Dublin to whip out that nastiness he surely had waiting to be said? Maybe chewing out someone who'd been so open before was not the right step to take now, but who knows what impulsivity has to say on the matter!

But, the topic then moved. Very lucky timing. The thought of hugs wasn't one he had much, and he realized then it'd been a long while since he had a good, warm hug. Those are nice. He thought. Dead brilliant, really...

"No.. I like that.. Very much..." Dublin mumbled mindlessly. When he realized he'd said that out loud, an audibly sharp inhale brought him to a look like Louis had just said something very offensive. Or scary? A mix of the two, probably. That had definitely been a mistake and his reaction only brought it attention. "Uh. Gonny no dae that!" He snapped, louder than he'd meant to be. Then, once again, someone changed it all up and saved his ass, this time being the approach of a drifty woman.

Dublin was quite distraught by how close she decided to stand. Though she was at eye level with him, when he looked into her amber eyes he felt as if she believed she were taller in other senses. Or, maybe he just believed he was shorter. Whatever it was, he had a distate for it and had to look somewhere else. Anywhere else. Down, maybe. Once again, to her closeness.

To both her demands and Louis' remark, Dublin jolted majorly. That look of offense-- or fear, it's still up for debate-- returned, and for once today he wasted no time in responding. "Haud yer wheesht! I ain't a drug and hug vending machine!" He hastily spat. His accent liked to come on stronger when he spoke coldly like that, and it did. A silent moment of his hand fidgeting irritably went on until he audibly sighed, glaring to the ground.

"Uagh, right then..." Dublin had to make a conscious effort to not squawk curses as he reluctantly slipped his pack of cigarettes out from his back pocket. He flashed it toward the bronzed woman, lid flicked open. "Take one you fucking chancer! Cig won't get de stick out'yer ass, but is what you damn well get, ye?" A look of digust plagued his features as he kept looking at the ground, chewing his lip so as not to say anything else.

When he gave a quick glance up to Louis, his expression got the slightest bit better. ".. I don know what ta give you, though."

Amara / Wes | Dublin, Louis

Looking him square in the eye with a gleaming smirk, Amara replied, “no hablo imbecile.” Her words were concise, confident, and laced with venom. Her eyes flickered from his eyes down to the pack of cigarettes he offered her and she scowled in a way that mirrored disgust. “Thanks, love, but that rolled-up lung cancer won’t fix my problems the way vodka will. I’d best be on my way.”

Of course, she wasn’t looking for vodka. That was the backup plan. The backup plan couldn’t be put into effect until she’d spoken to the sketchiest loners on site and shaken them down for whatever they might have on them. Then, maybe the pre-backup-plan would be to seduce the medics in the small, on-farm clinic across from the office. No, that was the pre-pre-backup-plan. The pre-backup plan was to raid the equine medical supplies and see if any of the substances in there were worth snatching up. And if none of those plans worked, her father was a therapeutic riding instructor. Surely one of his students had some prescription something to get her through. But that would require pretending to warm up to him, which instantly sent it crashing to Plan Z.

She’d completely ignored the taller man with the glasses, and perhaps it was better that way. He was attractive in a goody-two-shoes kind of way, which instantly made her dislike him. She wasn’t looking for marriage, or forever, or commitment, or anything else someone like him had to offer. She especially wasn’t going to bring home someone her father would like, and Louis screamed ‘I check every box your family has.’ God, what a suck-up. Her suspicions were only confirmed with that awkward, unfunny sense of humor those types of guys had. They sacrificed their masculinity for a few laughs. Amara wasn’t laughing. And, he was already talking about marriage.

Turning her attention back towards Louis, she crossed her arms, feeling annoyed by the fact that he was taller. She was tall enough to intimidate most people, and those who weren’t intimidated by her height were certainly intimidated by her personality. Her bright eyes were lit with indignance. “And you, I almost feel bad for you.”

Without elaborating, Amara strutted off, headed to find her next victim. Either he’d pursue her to find out what she meant or he was confident enough in himself to not care. Those were the only two options, she’d met enough guys to know. Either way, his presence pissed her off to the point where she was in a sour mood for the remainder of the morning, which was more than she could say most people had the capability of doing to her. If it wasn’t such an insult, the impressiveness of that feat would almost be a compliment.

Not long after Amara had gone, ten minutes at best, a fluffy-haired guy in casual attire walked up the hill from the same direction she’d left. He had the hood of his big grey sweatshirt pulled up over his dark curls which was still massively uncontained and spilling out over his forehead and the front of his hood. His eyes were a bright honeydew green that pierced through the crowd, noticeable even from afar. He glanced around, trying not to make himself known, then found his way over to the two men who were still gathered, chatting he assumed.

“Sorry to interrupt,” his voice was gentle and subtly accented. It was a mix of things, an odd combination that was oddly pleasant to the ear. “Have you guys see a tall, dark-haired girl walking this way? She approached me looking for drugs, and honest to God she’s one of the scariest people I’ve ever met. I’m hiding from her before she kills me in my sleep.” He offered a subtle, charming smile, glancing between the two guys. He restrained himself from making eye contact because he knew the intensity of his gaze could be uncomfortable. People either adored the color of his eyes and couldn’t stop looking, or the piercing quality turned them away. He didn’t like the idea of making people uncomfortable, so he tried to be a nice guy in a self-sacrificial way. He longed for someone to be able to look into his eyes without looking away one day, the idea of eye contact meant more to him than anything else. Maintaining the gentle smile, he offered a cute, shy wave. “My name’s Wes, by the way.”

Tryst Bergman || Livvie; Heather Open

Tacking up was a quick an painless process due to Krigare's excitement to get going for the day. Tryst had opted to walk him towards the meeting place and quickly made her way there only to be greeted by an unfamiliar face. The familiarity, however, was quickly learned as Livvie appeared and introduced the woman as Heather.

Tryst smiled widely and reached her hand out to shake in return to the other's own good tidings.

"Its lovely to meet you Heather." She spoke before turning to Livvie who was holding the lead of a handsome alabaster pony. Krigare by this point had reached his dark muzzle out to both horses in greeting before returning to his most beloved pose of poise mixed with a tad domineering.

"I think that sounds great Livvie."

Her words came out with a huff as the girl swung into her saddle, swinging her hand down to give Krigare a pat on the neck in response to his huff at the added weight (be it not much to the giant). She looked to Olivia once more and giggled before speaking, "Last night you asked what he's like. Im sure you will find out this morning that this old boy knows he is much too pretty to be lugging me around." her words mixed with a musical laugh that the wind picked up and paraded around. She shuddered at the chill and zipped up the green jacket she wore quickly. When Olivia reached forward to pat the nose of the stoic gelding he leaned down and nuzzled her palm, quite happy to recieve the attention.

She glanced occasionaly at Heather and would flash her a bright smile before returning her gaze to the fields that stretched into the morning horizon. While she enjoyed a nice chat there was nothing that tryst enjoyed more than the peace of the early morning, even in a bust place such as this.

"So ladies, shall we get going?"

(Super short but I wanted to get things moving on the ride <3 )

Rena | Alex

After about six minutes of losing her mind, Katarena picked her fragile ego off the ground, dusted it off, and put all of her pieces back together. She was so far in her head that she couldn’t find the exit, and it was preventing her from being who she wanted Alex to see, who she wanted everyone to see. Except maybe Viktor, he was a decent human being and the only person who knew who she was, even when she didn’t. He had been a good friend for a very long time and he had proven to be the only person she could genuinely, really trust.

Checking the time, Rena was almost disappointed with a six minute crying session. Typically if she had to be emotional about something, she set a timer for five. That last minute didn’t show much promise for her mental condition, at least in her opinion. Success had to be measured in progress, in efficiency, in numbers, and six minutes was a rather disappointing statistic. By the time she realized she was analyzing her crying time statistics, she realized she was feeling better. Emotionally raw, in pain, but much better.

Walking back into the barn, Rena followed the distinct sound of riding boots on barn flooring to where Alex was tacking up one of the privately-owned lease horses. She had a particular interest in this mare because of her bloodline, and because of her interest, had gotten word that her owner was out of town horse shopping. With logical reasoning, Rena deduced that Alex was either a friend of the owner or a working student of some kind here. Either way, the implication was that other people trusted their horses--their expensive horses--to the male rider’s care. She assumed that made him a good rider, and she found herself impressed. She lingered in the doorway of the stall, watching him for a moment. For one, she didn’t want to interrupt him after that very abrupt, chaotic, intense interaction ten minutes ago and freak him out more. Secondly, she found herself enjoying watching him so in his element. He was peaceful, he looked less anxious, lost in thought. She almost asked him what he was thinking about in that mysterious brain of his, but found that it’d be hardly appropriate considering the elephant that would be in the room as soon as she made her presence known. She waited a moment or two longer before gently moving her boot to create noise in a gentler fashion, one that would be less likely to make him jump. Within seconds those stormcloud eyes were back on her, and once again, she tried not to look away. It was hard not to, though, she wasn’t sure how people could hold eye contact and talk and do other things. She couldn’t even think, it was like her mind went blank.

Transferring her gaze onto the mare so she could properly get her words out, Rena said, “hey, I just… I want you to let me get this out. I don’t expect you to say anything, I don’t expect it to change anything. When I’m done talking I’m going to walk away and we never have to speak of it again. We don’t even have to speak again if that’s what you want. But hear me out. I have lost my mind. Everything I thought I knew about myself and the world in general has been obliterated in the last two years of my life, let alone the past few days. My emotions have been all over the place, I have not been myself. You’ve gotten to see the worst of me in the first twenty-four hours of knowing me and absolutely nothing makes my skin crawl more than that. For whatever reason, and I hate to say this knowing you’re definitely the kind of person who doesn’t believe in this kind of thing, I feel like I was meant to meet you in that barn yesterday. I don’t understand it, and I can’t explain it, but I see a lot of pieces of myself in you. And, don’t correct me if I’m wrong, because I really can’t keep giving this terrible speech without forward momentum, but I think you see a lot of pieces of yourself in me too. I don’t know what this looks like, moving forward, but I’m tired of walking around feeling like an idiot because I can’t seem to get it right with you.” By this point, she was simply ranting in a light-hearted yet genuine way. The emotions were ablaze in her eyes, more than they ever had been before. “Do you know how rare it is for me to make a bad first impression? Let alone two? Or three? I don’t even know what we’re up to now!” She calmed her demeanor, looking him square in the eye. For once, she didn’t try to hide. “I’ve done a lot of talking, and a lot of taking up your time, and I am extremely sorry for all of the unnecessary drama and chaos that has been radiating off of me in the last day. I promise I will leave you alone now. I promise that I will not bother you again, and that if we have another interaction, it will be because you’re doing the talking and because you want to talk to me, not the other way around. I just wanted to be completely, one-hundred percent honest and authentic, for once in my life.” She gave a small smile, almost melancholic. With the softest look in her eye, she gently said, “this is me leaving now,” and was gone, headed back up to her dorm without another word. She hadn’t wanted to hear what he had to say, she was terrified. Not that the consuming silence was any better, but at least silence was left to the interpretation of those experiencing it. It wasn’t final like words tended to be.

When she arrived back in her dorm, everything was the way she had left it an hour or two prior. Her side of the room was sterile, unlived in, even two weeks later. Her roommate was still in bed, fast asleep. Rena threw on a sweatshirt to protect her body from the colder temperatures of the room before sitting down at the desk with her planner in hand, re-working her morning and the remainder of her day to avoid encountering Alex if at all possible. There was no way he had her number, considering the fact that she’d never once texted in the group chat and she doubted any one person had all of these numbers saved to contacts, not to mention the fact that he didn’t know which dorm was hers, even if he wanted to talk to her. He probably didn’t, and she came to the conclusion that it was far better that way. Even if he had words to say to her, she wasn’t sure she could hear them. She wasn’t sure what to do. Pulling her phone back out, she deleted her text to Viktor from earlier, sending a new one.

[Rena]: If you got my last message, just ignore it. Do you want to go for a trail ride? I have a death-wish and Hugo’s ready to fulfill it.

[Viktor]: typing…

That was odd, she thought. Why would he be up so early? She wondered if he was okay, but quickly brushed it off because of the enthusiasm in his text. Well, enthusiasm for the driest texter she had ever met, and would ever meet in her life.

[Viktor]: ten minutes front of arena 2a

[Rena]: See you then. Stop at the caf and bring lunch for both of us? I don’t know how long we’ll be gone for.

[Viktor]: yes

Arlette Wright | OPEN

The petite brunette had woken up with an innate sense of irritation and disgust that plagued her, mainly due to her interaction with Reggie the night previous. Clearly, it had given her a stomachache and a painful headache. Why her brother enjoyed spending time with that loser was beyond her? Every aspect of Reggie was riddled with some sort of tainted smudge, and even before birth as well. Formed by irresponsibility on her aunt’s side, who was lucky enough – or coy enough – to find herself a partner who would accept the fool as his son.

“Oof…” Thinking about it made her head hurt more than it already was, so she decided to get on with her life. Hidalgo needed to get his early morning run before being fed, and she also had her school horse to exercise. Her plan was to take him out to the cross-country course and put him over some jumps, post-breakfast. Maybe a hack with both of them over some trails.

The slight irritation she had was still evident as she changed her clothes, every action being done with a small amount of savage and unnecessary energy. Pulling her hair back, she stared at her face in the mirror, a slight frown imprinted on her lips as she noticed the slightly red spot at her hairline. It would have to wait for later, when she would have some more time.

Stepping out onto the hallway, she noted the slight emptiness of it. There were a few people coming out, but not of a substantial value. Granted that it was only just gone past six, not everyone would be awake. The early morning runs are a particular favourite of hers, when it wasn’t too hot to be working out under the sun. Especially if there was a nice breeze going, like today.

Down at the barn, she was swimming underneath the large tack and grooming kit she was carrying towards Hidalgo’s stable. Her small frame meant the weight would send her a few uncertain steps out of the direct path, when she would attempt to balance the weight. It was of no expense however, when the black face of the young colt swung over the door, with plenty of huffs and snorts and whinnies as he attempted to communicate the level of his excitement.

As Arlette came into the stall, he immediately began the process of sniffing down her pockets in search of a potential polo. All throughout this, he continued chattering away at her, as she oohed and ahhed back. As she began to groom him, he settled down slightly, happy to patiently wait out the grooming and taping. That was his favorite part of this routine: having his legs taped.

Once tacked and ready to go, the pair swung out of the stable and headed down toward the racetrack. The repetitive crunching of the pebbles underfoot was soothing to the ear, distracting the two until they came onto the track. The warm-up went by very quickly, and Hidalgo began pulling at the bit towards the end of it, eager to get to the running stage. When she refused to let him have his way, the tossing of the head and prancing began.

Redirecting his energy, she lined him up along the manufactured start line, as she set up a personal timer. It would have been nice if someone else could have kept watch on it, but they could easily make do alone. Starting it, she gave Hidalgo the release he wanted, shifting her own weight as she began to gradually accelerate on. Glancing down, she watched the ground pass by in a blur, as the black stallion’s reach increased. Looking up made no difference. The rail bars went by as rapidly as the ground, and they definitely weren’t slowing down by any means.

This was the reason that she adored her own rides with Hidalgo. In her imagination, this was how she imagined Secretariat’s jockey to feel, as the stallion continued to speed up with every lap, overtaking competitors by leagues.

Reaching the mile and an eighth marker, the pair slowed down to a walk, with Arlette’s continued praise flooding the equine’s ears as he regained his breath, chest flaring as he drew in flushes of air. Although obviously tired and lathered in cool sweat, he was already ready to go again, if he would have the opportunity to. No such luck though, because the next line of work was for him to get a cool-down before getting a wash. So that’s where they ended up, in one of the wash bays.