(SPRING KEEPS YOU EVER CLOSE) [Open]

[Alex]

SONJA HADN'T BEEN A CITIZEN of Ravenhook for more than a couple of days before she was out of bed and headed to the stables for a nice, relaxing trail ride. Her main priority in life right now was Flynn, her only friend for the past year or so. Since school let out her senior year, she hadn't kept many friends. Her biggest mistake, it seemed, was focusing all of her attention on schoolwork. On the other hand, if she had slacked off as she did her junior year, she probably wouldn't have been able to maintain her 3.8 GPA, something her dad always praised her for. A smile started to tug at the corners of Sonja's lips before she shook away the thought in a hurry. She wasn't going to think about her dad right now -- Sonja was in too good of a mood for that. Not a second was spared, though, before her thoughts began to dwell upon her lack of friendships once more. Did it really matter, though? Sonja had moved, and there's not much difference between having friends that live across the country and not having friends at all. She had come from Nevada, after all, and how long could friendships last when all you had were phone calls and texting? It's not like you could meet halfway, either; Virginia and Nevada were certainly not neighboring states.

Sonja shrugged to herself as she pulled down her stirrups, standing to the left of her massive Warmblood. After grabbing some breakfast early this morning, she had driven straight to the barn to check on Flynn. He seemed to be settling in fine, as Sonja hoped he would. He was a sweet horse; he got along with mostly everyone... except thunderstorms. Sonja gave his neck a reassuring pat as she gathered the reins in her right hand and balanced herself on the mounting block. He tended to step away during this process, a big annoyance but nothing horrible. He could always behave worse, after all. Which was certainly not the case for Flynn, he was just about perfect in Sonja's eyes. Besides a few minimal annoyances and his intense fear of storms, he was what she had always dreamed of and then some.

Sonja slipped her left foot into the stirrup and swung into the saddle, sitting down softly. She let Flynn travel on a loose rein as she fidgeted with her helmet and the pesky strands of hair that had escaped it. Oh well... who was there to impress? She was sure to direct attention elsewhere with her T-shirt from a horse show years into the past that still appeared a size too large. And already it was streaked with dirt and molasses from Flynn's sloppy kiss earlier. Sonja wiggled her toes in her black paddock boots before sweeping her gaze across her surroundings. It was springtime, Sonja's least favorite and favorite season. She hated spring because of all the pollen and allergens that bothered her sinuses. She had already sneezed dozens of times in the aisle when she was grooming Flynn. Yuck. Her eyes were probably still red, too. Besides her allergies, it was a beautiful season and the temperature always seemed to be just right.

The rays of sunlight highlighted the pollen spiraling down from the leaves, trembling slightly in the breeze. The pink buds upon the formerly bare tree branches arched over the entrance to the trail Sonja was approaching, an inviting sight nonetheless. Once on the worn, dirt path, Flynn's ears rotated at the slightest sound, undoubtedly alert. Sonja gave his shoulder a pat, knowing just how much her horse loved trail rides. His formerly slow pace sped up to an alert, almost jarring walk. "Easy boy. I'll let you run when the path gets wider." Sonja cooed. Right now, it was too narrow for even a second horse to squeeze by. She wasn't sure of what the trail consisted of, so it would probably be a longer wait to canter than she hoped. The idea of Flynn stepping into a hole or running on packed earth certainly did not appeal to Sonja. At the moment, the ground was soft, but that could change.

The woods were bustling with activity. Flynn took noted interest towards the squirrels scurrying about and the birds gliding from branch to branch overhead. Sonja's eyes traveled from the sun dappling the trail to the trees stretching on for what seemed like forever to her left and right. Ahead, a small log lay in the path, with enough room on the right to pass. Sonja debated whether or not to jump the obstacle -- it would certainly be different from jumping your standard vertical in the ring, anyway. Before she could decide herself, Flynn noticed the opportunity and sprung forward into the trot.

Sonja laughed, circling him around and trotting a few steps in the direction they previously came from. Then she turned the gelding towards the log again and set him up for the jump. She rose and fell with his trot, springy and alert. Giving him a squeeze with her calves, Flynn broke into the canter a stride before the log. Sonja rose above his black mane, sliding her hands up his neck as they cleared the obstacle without difficulty. She slid back into the saddle once landing and clapped her hand against the gelding's neck. Flynn trembled with excitement, scoping out the trail for the next jump as Sonja brought him back to the walk. She had a feeling it was going to be a good ride.

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WORD COUNT: 931
MUSE: Not so good.
TAGGED: Anyone :D[/size]

[.~.T.e.a.k.~.]

Michael Pierson // Big Bad John
Human // Equine
Mikey // Cowboy

They’d been riding in one of the arenas, but had taken to the trails about an hour ago. Mikey had arrived about three hours prior and had immediately gone to check up on his stallion, who’d nicked himself a few days ago and been lame until last night. The young man still hadn’t figured out how the horse had injured himself, but he’d already put it out of his mind.

He’d brought the eager stallion out to ride for the first time since they’d arrived and immediately Cowboy had sensed the barely withheld excitement within his owner and had picked up on it, throwing his large head and dancing in the crossties as Mikey had saddled him up in his deep chocolate brown western gear. Cowboy, in his excitement, had caused a bit of a problem when he’d wanted to play earlier and had grabbed his protective boots and tossed them through the air, but even then Mikey couldn’t be annoyed with the stallion, he understood the horses’ eagerness only too well.

They’d kept to the arena for about half an hour, playing around and just having fun in general, then Mikey had turned the tall Paint stallion towards the trail. The stallion loved to trail ride almost as much as he liked competing and ranch-work. They had taken to the trail at a run, even though it wasn’t very wide at first. Cowboy was used to narrow trails from his years as a ranch horse, he had liked nothing better than to chase cattle through narrow brush trails when he and Mikey had lived a ranch life.

The stallion’s hoofprints could be seen on the trail, spaced rather far apart, so it was clearly apparent to whoever took time to look that a horse and rider had run down the trail recently. A couple hundred yards, though, the hoofprints showed that the horse had slowed to a walk and had veered to the side of the trail, near the creek that ran alongside part of the trail, and disappeared.

Mikey had taken Cowboy down into the creek and the two had ridden up the creek a ways, stopping at a relatively deep part to play. Now, they were scrambling back up the bank to the trail. Cowboy was soaked and slightly muddy from splashing in the cool water. His legs, chest, halfway up his stomach, hindquarters, and half of his neck were soaking wet and splattered with mud, making his white markings look dirty and his brown coloring look darker than it really was. His mane and tail, which Mikey had let grow out very long, were black and white mixed, but now looked more like black, brown, and white. The saddle, bridle, and boots the horse wore wound need to be cleaned after they got back to the stables and Mikey knew he’d have to take the saddlebags and saddlepad home to wash.

Mikey himself didn’t look much better than his horse. He’d taken off his black button down t-shirt earlier and had put it in his saddlebags with his sunshades (which he never went anywhere without), leaving him in just his jeans, fingerless bikers/horseback-riding gloves, black and crimson belt, and dark brown riding boots. His hair was soaking wet and water droplets dripped down onto his face and ran down his neck. He had a streak of mud across the right ride of his face and had mud splattered across his chest, arms, and back. The tattoos on his upper arms and shoulder-blades were clearly visible and he wore all his piercings in except for his lip ring. Even his jeans were wet and muddy… in all; he and his horse were a mess, but the happy step in Cowboy’s walk, his pricked ears, and the brightness in his blue eyes and the wide, satisfied grin on Mikeys’ face and the light in the one eye that could be seen dulled out the messiness and showed them for what they were; a great match and true trail riders out enjoying a… rather-messy-but-apparent-extremely-fun ride.

Come on, Cowboy! Mikey clicked to the horse and the stallion started down the trail at a fast jog. His tail swished, causing a few drops of water and mud to fall onto his owner, making Mikey laugh. He felt free when he rode Cowboy, even when competing with the stallion he didn’t feel bothered by the pressure. Michael reached forwards and slapped the stallions wet neck affectionately as they continued their jog up the trail.

Word Count: 802

[Alex]

LACK OF SLEEP WAS BEGINNING to catch up with Sonja at this point. After clearing the log, however small, it seemed to zap whatever remaining energy she had. Flynn, on the other hand, was practically fighting against the bit. "Easy." Sonja said in the middle of a slow release of breath. It wasn't loud enough for Flynn to hear, and even if it was, she doubted the gelding would slow his pace. Sonja's hazel gaze fell to the path once more, but suddenly she noticed fresh tracks. A sudden burst of adrenaline coursed through her veins. Maybe she'd meet someone on the trail. Maybe she'd no longer feel so alone. Maybe. Sonja released her formerly tight grip on the reins and Flynn burst forward into a springy trot immediately.

Rising and falling. Up, down, up, down. Sonja continued the posting trot, exhaustion creeping up on her but for the time being, she shoved it aside. The sound of running water was soon audible, and Sonja braced herself immediately. Her tight posture sent Flynn into a somewhat hyper state (even more so than he previously had been), and a few canter strides were taken before Sonja brought him back to a halt. "Shhh..." Her voice trailed off as she examined the route the horse and rider had taken. Through a creek, its waters lazily heading downstream. Sonja bit back her lip and chewed in concentration. Flynn hated puddles, but Sonja had never run into the opportunity of crossing a creek. Maybe he wouldn't bolt. Flynn pawed at the soft earth, one ear turned towards her as if waiting for her permission.

Sonja gave a small squeeze with her calves and they leapt forward. As Flynn's forelegs touched the water the bay jerked backwards instantly, his neck inches away from Sonja's face. "Woah boy. It's okay." Sonja ran her hand up and down his neck soothingly, coaxing him into the water. The gelding pawed at the surface before rushing through the creek and scrambling up the bank at the other side. "Good boy." Sonja said. It could have gone worse.

They followed the hoof prints at a walk. Flynn seemed less alert than before, but nonetheless interested in his surroundings. His formerly red bay coat was close to black at the bottom of his chest where the water had reached its deepest in the creek. Sonja's navy breeches had gotten splashed, but the tired rider had barely given it a second thought. As the trail grew wider, Sonja urged Flynn into a canter, which was much more upbeat than she would have liked. Her hands were placed delicately upon his mane, elbows flexing with the movement of his neck as they continued down the trail.

Coming around a bend, they came upon a much more open trail that allowed Sonja to sweep her gaze across a much wider range than before. She spotted a beautiful Paint and its rider moving across the earth. Sonja brought Flynn to a trot, then to a walk, as she felt somewhat awkward. She had followed the two, after all. After noticing that the rider was, in fact, male, most of her tension rose as Sonja got along with guys much better than she did with girls. Anyway, Sonja decided she wasn't quite ready for introductions quite yet, but the massive gelding beneath her seemed to have other plans. Flynn, having spotted the other horse, gave a bellowing nicker that rung out across the opening. Great. There was no way he hadn't heard that. Sonja prepared herself for confrontation, her cheeks already turning a noticeable shade of red at the idea.

WORD COUNT: 604
MUSE: Eh, I'm pretty tired.[/size]

[.~.T.e.a.k.~.]

The surroundings fell behind them as Mike urged Cowboy into a lope., water and mud flew off them, but even more seemed to stick to them, making them both look a sight, though it was well worth if for all the fun they were having. Cowboy had a fast lope, a little too fast for western pleasure, even though he was trained for that among other things. He kept his neck and head level with his withers as he loped down the trail; his ears were back, not pinned, but awaiting Mikey’s word to go faster.

Mikey’s grip on the reins was loose, and after a few strides he dropped the reins entirely, letting them lay across the saddle as he balanced in the saddle. He trusted the stallion to keep at the speed they were. Minutes later, he sat back deep in the saddle and pushed his legs forwards. Cowboy put on the brakes as he was trained to do when that cue was given and stood still in the middle of the trail, almost quivering with excitement. The veins in his legs bulged out as the blood flow quickened and he twisted his neck around to gaze across the trail, his ice (or glass) blue eyes were wide and bright.

Cowboy’s ears flicked back when Mikey shifted in the saddle, but there was no cue to go forwards, so the big stallion stayed still, occasionally blowing or stomping a hoof restlessly. Mikey raised a hand to his face and pushed his long, wet bangs back, his blind blue-grey and browned mixed colored eye showing, though he saw nothing but darkness from the left. He tilted his head to look at the stallion, noting almost lazily that he’d have to hose the horse down when they got back to the barn, then ran his fingers back through his hair, pulling the long bangs back over to hide his eye, though with the locks of hair being wet, they clumped together and tangled.

You miss the ranch, don’t you Cowboy? You miss chasing uncles cows all over his land and herding them home. The stallion flicked an ear back at Mikey and lowered his head slightly, wanting to go on, eager to move forwards, and Mike couldn’t help but grin and pick up the reins, cueing the Paint to walk on. Mikey and Cowboy were suited so well for each other that it was scary at times. The stallion was nothing more than a pet when it came to Mikey, and he tried to protect the young man when on ground. Cowboy knew his owner well and knew that there was something wrong with his eyesight on one side, even if he didn’t know what it was.

The stallion’s ears flicked up and his head rose as he, along with Mikey heard the hoof-falls of an approaching horse and rider. Cowboy moved around to face the incoming duo without a visible cue from his owner and his head rose as they came around the bend in the trail at a canter before slowing to a trot, then a walk.

Mikey tilted his head to survey the slightly blurry image of the new horse and rider, mentally cursing the fact that his remaining vision was slowly failing him in his right eye. He couldn’t make out features, but he could tell that the rider was female and the horse she rode was reddish bay. He saw the red flush on her face, and watched as her horse raised its head and neighed, but everything else was slightly blurry.

Cowboy returned the neigh with a low, almost questioning nicker and took a step towards the duo before stopping himself. The Paint stallion’s head stayed high, though, and his ears stayed pricked, his blue eyes watching the new duo curiously. Mikey noticed the darker fur at the red bay horses stomach, realizing that they too had gone through the creek, but apparently not stopped and played in it like he and Cowboy had, because they didn’t look muddy. He glanced down at his bare, mud-streaked chest and arms, knowing without having to even try and look that his back was just as muddy and he felt the drying mud that danced across his face and grinned sheepishly, though not embarrassed in any way, form, or fashion. He’d gone shirtless at his uncles ranch and at his cousins place many times during the spring and summer, and it wasn’t a big deal to him anymore… besides, he was wet and muddy, there was no way he was going to ruin his shirt (although, admittedly, it was probably soaked through if the sopping condition his saddlebags were in was any indication).

Word Count: 811

[Alex]

SHE HAD TAKEN NOTICE OF the accompanying rider's lack of shirt, something Sonja couldn't help but rest her eyes upon and study. She was the type of person who took little things into consideration, such as this. For one, the way his broad shoulders were slightly tanned, and judging by the Western tack, she figured they must have originated from a ranch somewhere. She hadn't heard of one here for miles, anyway. The rider's horse was attractive, fascinating almost. Her gaze went to him next. She knew at least one of them had come from a working ranch. The Paint's hindquarters and shoulders were wide, muscles rippling beneath his coat with every step he took. Western riding had always interested Sonja. She had only ridden one year for a summer camp, hardly enough to call her experienced. The style of riding was certainly different from what she was used to, but Sonja enjoyed it and found herself missing it now.

Flynn took a few eager steps forward, fluttering his nostrils and ears flicking back and forth. Sonja tilted her head and swept her gaze from her gelding to the other horse. What was so fascinating about it besides the fact he was a new sight to them both? The only other time when he had acted so squirrelly was when he had seen a stallion being brought in to their old barn. Maybe this Paint wasn't gelded.

Sonja studied the Paint's eyes further. Seeing icy blue eyes on a horse was a rare sight, something she had only seen in books previous times before. The horse's eyes held a sense of pride, and it was enough for a smile to tug at Sonja's lips. She lifted her eyes to the man and chewed her lip in concentration. He sent a sheepish grin in her direction, and Sonja returned the gesture with a genuine smile of her own. She couldn't help but smile now as she took notice of his damp, tangled hair and upper body streaked with mud. They had certainly not just crossed the creek. Sonja gave another sideways smile as she realized horse and rider were far more attached than most were. She noticed all right, and it sent her heart swelling with emotion.

After silence grew between them, Sonja gave Flynn a nudge and the massive Warmblood took eager steps forward. "Hey." Sonja said, her delicate voice barely making it across the opening. Flynn stretched out his neck, his sides quivering as the distance between him and the Paint grew smaller. He then stopped, raising his head and bobbing it once or twice, seeming to size up his company. "Don't mind him, the trails have gotten him acting really silly. I'm not sure why he's so interested in your horse." Sonja gave a small shrug. She ran her hand up and down the gelding's neck and tousled his dark mane, sending a few remaining water droplets from the creek flying in all directions. She wiped at her cheek, as one had landed there.

"I'm Sonja." She said, giving him a small smile as she bit down her lip. Introductions weren't exactly her thing. If anything, they were rather awkward for her. She lowered her gaze to Flynn, whose ears were permanently shot forward. His dark visionaries were set upon the horse -- Sonja didn't think he had even noticed the rider. Her eyes rested upon the man's own, well, the eye not hiding behind his mass of hair. His eyes were kind, but lacked something. Sonja couldn't quite put her finger on what. His hair had cast a shadow over his other eye, making it impossible for the moment being to see it. Sonja's gaze then traveled to his physique once more, before quickly looking away. First you follow the two, now you want to check the poor guy out. God Sonja, quit coming off so desperate. Her shoulders seemed to slump slightly, as she realized it was, in fact, pretty desperate. She straightened her shoulders after a moment and looked back at the Paint. "He's beautiful." She knew why her gelding was so transfixed upon him. Every step the horse took was so prideful, so natural. Sonja was only used to riding push-button ponies and horses trained to ride around in circles. Wouldn't it be something to ride Western again? Letting your hand rest at your side, the other's grip on the reins as you run across the plains, maybe at the bottom of a mountain somewhere in the West?

Snap out of it. Sonja realized she definitely just had a Flicka moment. She loved that movie, it made her long to ride in the Western saddle again. Maybe she'd watch that movie when she got home. Or maybe she'd just have to pick up Western riding instead of wishing for it all the time.

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WORD COUNT: 810
MUSE: Maybe I should write at 3 in the morning more often? Muse is better than it usually is. :P
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[.~.T.e.a.k.~.]

The stallion walked forwards on Mike’s shift in the saddle and stepped to the side a few steps, so his legs would bring him and the young man up to the other two on the right and a few feet away from the Warmblood and the young woman riding. The Paint stopped just a foot away from the other horse and nickered softly, ears erect and eyes bright as he stretched his neck out to smell the other horse once he was near enough. Mikey let the reins drop back over the saddlehorn, trusting Cowboy to not start a fight, and took the time to look the young woman and her horse over like she’d been doing to him just a few moments ago. He wasn’t a shy person, and wasn’t easily embarrassed either.

Cowboy… He uttered the stallions’ name warningly when the Paint pinned its ears momentarily, but the horse wasn’t threatening, rather… he was just warning the Warmblood,. Though over what it was unknown… perhaps something only horses knew? A second after his name was uttered the Paint’s ears flicked back up and he gave a friendly whicker. For a stallion, he was exceptionally calm and never got too excited, even during breeding season. Mikey had never had a problem riding the horse with mares or geldings, or even other stallions, as Cowboy wasn’t one to start a fight, even though he’d certainly finished a few in the past.

While Cowboy was preoccupied with the Warmblood, Mikey had taken the time to look the horse over. The bay equine looked to be the same size as the Paint, though Michael unsurprisingly found himself to like Cowboy much better. It was nothing against the Warmblood, but every person likes their own horses better. The Warmbloods coloring was beautiful and his eyes looked to be quite intelligent and friendly.

Now Mikey glanced at Sonja, as she’d said was her name. His mouth curved into a small grin and he tried to wipe the muddy streak from his face but only succeeded in smearing it.

She looked to be close to his age and was on the shorter side, but then… Mikey couldn’t really talk because most guys his age and younger towered over his 5”9 frame. He had a fourteen year old cousin who stood three inches taller than him. Her hair was slightly wavy/curly and she seemed to be quite friendly, even if a little unsure or shy, Mikey wasn’t sure which.

The young man scratched lightly underneath the mane on Cowboy’s really itchy spots and the horse sighed and lowered his head some, ears flicking back to a relaxed position as he enjoyed the scratching. The stallion was through smelling of the Warmblood and had accepted the other horse as a friend.

I’m Michael. He said as he gave the horse one last scratch and pulled his hand back to rest atop the horn. Is he a stallion? Has he ever been around them before? He motioned to the Warmblood, guessing that maybe the other horse had never had close contact with stallions. He’d seen more than one horse get excited like that. He was easy going and friendly, yet not overbearing, just nice enough. The attitude he’d picked up from his uncle when he’d lived on the ranch; it was a good way to make friends without trying. It had taken him a good while to get used to being open like that and not getting embarrassed or closing up; he had been a slightly shy boy growing up before his parents had split, but eventually his uncle and cousins had squashed the shyness out of him.

Cowboy chose that moment to shake himself, and Mikey stood slightly in the stirrups, balancing carefully as the horse sent water and small mud splatters flying everywhere. The Paint’s long dual colored mane flew through the air, landing in a mess alongside both sides of his neck when he stopped shaking. Mike chuckled and pushed the heavy mane over on the left side, his fingers snagging in a few wet tangles. Sorry. He said, knowing full well that with the close proximity of the two horses, there was no way that Sonja and her horse could have avoided the flying water mixed with mud. Hopefully she wouldn’t be angry, though he supposed he could always offer to help her clean her tack or something to make it up to her, if she was angry.

Word Count: 779

[Alex]

SONJA'S MOUTH SCRUNCHED OFF TO the side, some said it was a cute habit and others didn't comment. The name Michael triggered this reaction, for one of her exes had shared the name. To say the least, they had not ended on very good terms. Sonja twisted in the saddle, aimlessly gazing over her shoulder as she took a deep breath and released it at the thought of the sorry excuse for a human being from her past. Quickly regaining composure, she faced Michael once more as his alto voice continued to carry. "He's always this way with stallions. He's fine with mares, I'm not sure why he gets all excited over boys." She laughed lightly, not sure if he would take her words down the same route that she had meant for them to be taken.

"Anyway, unless your boy's a stallion, I don't know why he's all riled up." Sonja gave him a sideways glance. To be honest, she couldn't tell whether the Paint was gelded or not, and she didn't intend on looking. The accompanying horse and rider were close now, maybe a few feet off and Sonja felt herself growing less uneasy. He wasn't staring her down or anything, not like she had with him. That was probably why people felt so awkward around her. Sonja was naturally observant, but maybe a little too studious for some people's liking. She had stifled a small giggle at the way Michael had smeared mud across his face, rather than rid of it. It didn't bother her, and he didn't come off as the type to get embarrassed. Otherwise, she would have let him know.

Flynn had now hung his head, and as Sonja tilted her torso to the side she could see his lower lip beginning to droop. It seemed as if Flynn had made a new friend, and that was enough to get him to settle down. Silly boy. With a broad smile, she shifted her weight in the saddle and made herself more comfortable, although she really wished to get back on the trail. Being as timid as she was, though, she certainly didn't see herself inviting him along with her anytime soon. Nothing against Michael, it was just Sonja's nature.

Just then, the Paint had begun to shake. Flynn's head shot up, rotating his ear towards the Paint before tossing his mane and fluttering his nostrils as he realized it wasn't a big deal. Droplets of mud splattered across the gelding's thick neck, and over the saddle, too. Sonja glanced down and realized that it had splatterd on her clothing as well, but she laughed it off as she took her sleeve and wiped it across her cheek like a good sport. "Is it off?" She asked, pointing to her face with a small smile.

The gelding stomped his hoof into the earth, as if impatient to get moving again. Sonja shook her head and gave her eyes a roll with a laugh. Such a grump at times. "This is Flynn, by the way." She gave her gelding's neck a clap. "He definitely doesn't stand out as much as your boy," She gave him a smile, for the Paint was undoubtedly one of the prettiest she'd ever laid eyes on. "but we relate to each other more than people might think." Sonja's gaze was no longer fixated upon Michael's. She was somewhat surprised that had come out of her mouth. Here she was, telling a stranger that she was so attached to a horse. Sonja had no problem with that whatsoever, but most people found it bizarre that humans would even begin to relate themselves to an animal. Although, judging by his obvious connection with the Paint, Sonja felt herself grow more comfortable for it was apparent that Michael more than likely understood what she had said. She wished to ask him more questions, to continue conversation like they had been friends for ages, but for some reason Sonja didn't feel completely connected with the young man yet. She felt at distance, longing to understand more about him. She did this was everyone... maybe it was a bad trait to have. Maybe she really was nosy. No, she wasn't nosy... just, truly interested in what people had to say. Sonja sighed. She truly was an awkward little thing. Anyway, they had just met. It took more than a couple of minutes to feel truly at ease with someone, right?

Sonja felt a surge of bravery rise through her as she gave the gelding a squeeze and took a few tentative steps forward. "Shall we?" She inquired, gesturing towards the trail. Feeling rather courageous today, are we Sonja?

WORD COUNT: 782
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[.~.T.e.a.k.~.]

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at her comment over the Warmblood getting excited over stallions, but not mares, and Mikey tried to hide the uplifting, but couldn’t’ help it and had to laugh. He didn’t mean anything by it, but you had to admit, it was a pretty hilarious thing. Cowboy flicked an ear back to listen to the sound on his humans’ amusement, thingying his rear leg up on the ground as he relaxed.

That would be why he’s riled, then. He said once he’d gotten the amusement under control, though his visible eye twinkled with mirth. Cowboy here’s a stallion. The horse twisted its large brown and white head around at its name, an icy blue eye gazing back at Mikey curiously, as though asking the young man ‘what about me being a stallion?’. The dark haired nineteen year old shook his head, and raised his hands to his longer bangs, taking the wet locks of hair between his fists and wringing out a small dribble of water. The water fell onto his jeans and soaked through, cold against the denim. Y’know, most people don’t believe me when I tell them Cowboy’s a stallion… they say he’s too calm and a few have even gotten off their horses and checked to make sure I was telling the truth.

His hair now spiked up wildly, like a severely messed up cone on the head of a rooster and the dark locks stayed sticking up for a moment until Mikey ran his fingers through and pulled the thick tresses back down over his left eye. Michael leaned to the side and unbuckled the buckles on his saddlebags, rummaging through the contents and finally pulling out the button-down t-shirt he’d discarded earlier and a water bottle filled with creek-water. He used the shirt to wipe at the mud on his face, chest, arms and back, getting most off, then slipped his arms through the sleeves, leaving the shirt open and not really caring about the dampness or the mud he’d just smeared all over the thin black cotton material. He only nodded to her questioning of whether or not she’d gotten the mud from off her face.

Mikey had started to speak at the same moment that Sonja spoke the name of the Warmblood and mentioned that Flynn didn’t stand out as much. He disagreed… Mike thought Flynn stood out, his reddish bay coat was beautiful, and Mikey could only imagine what the horse looked like when the sun hit him just right. He voiced his opinion without hesitation, not minding disagreeing with her one bit.

The Paint simply looked on as Sonja and Flynn walked forwards a few steps. The stallion was drying, and as a result of the warmth of the day and the coldness of the water combined, he was feeling lazy. Mikey was feeling it too, but both he and the stallion could shake off the tiredness pretty easily. The young man picked up the reins and held them loosely, clicking once to the stallion to ask him to turn around. Cowboy’s head came up slightly as he sighed and flicked his ears lazily, though he did as was asked of him and quickly spun around to come up beside Flynn and Sonja.

I was about to ask you the same thing. Mike said once he drew level with Sonja, It’s more fun when there’s company to ride with, and Cowboy and I are nowhere near the end of our ride. The stallion snorted, as if in agreement, more ‘woken up’ now that he was moving a bit more eagerly, once again wanting to go and explore. Call me Mikey, too, I’ve never gone by my given name.

Word Count: 664

[Alex]

SONJA HAD TAKEN IN EVERYTHING. The occasional stream of water would trickle down from Michael's temples and slip across his cheeks, collecting at his jawbone for a moment before letting go of his tanned skin and falling to the ground. Sonja had listened with a smile as he explained that the Paint was indeed a stallion. She had arched her eyebrow at this, clearly understanding why people couldn't believe such a thing. Sonja found the idea hard to accept herself. "As tough as that is to believe, I'm not going to check." A smile was visible for a second, but the moment she began speaking a gust of wind came from the side and carried her voice away with it. Her eyes searched his, looking for any closure on whether or not he had heard her. Glancing back down, she had fidgeted with the reins momentarily before deciding it wasn't a big deal if he hadn't.

She stifled a giggle as Michael ran fingers through his hair, damp enough to stick straight up and, for the most part, stay there. His formerly hidden eye was suddenly exposed now and noticeably discolored in comparison to the other. Sonja didn't say anything but found herself slightly fascinated, for it was pretty neat in her opinion. A hint of curiosity was present in her own eyes once the dark hair had returned over his face. A mental note was made to bring it up later, because the opportunity had moved on for now. Michael had argued with her, which she found appealing. So she had been a bit modest; Flynn did stand out in her eyes, after all. In comparison to Cowboy, however, Sonja had to admit that he wasn't all that unique. Feeling guilty at the thoughts circulating in her mind, Sonja leaned forward and gave the gelding's neck a quick hug. An ear flicked back in her direction as she did this, but the bay stayed still until she had eased upright once more. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, feeling somewhat awkward at her random show of affection. She twirled the strands of hair that had escaped from her helmet around her finger aimlessly and bit down on her lip, letting her gaze travel away from Michael's.

But Cowboy and Michael were moving now, taking a few steps forward as Sonja's invitation to continue on was accepted. Mikey. That was, without a doubt, a cute nickname. And to think it hadn't crossed Sonja's mind before. "Okay, Mikey." Added emphasis was given to "Mikey," Sonja sending a smirk his way. The playful forming of her lips and the twinkle in her eye always came to be when she was either teasing someone or finding something adorable, in a sense. In this case, it was the second option. She gave Flynn a squeeze with her calves, sending him alongside Cowboy as they continued down the worn path. This time it was far wider than how it had started, allowing room for a possible third or fourth horse to join. The idea of cantering crossed Sonja's mind then, or perhaps perusing an even faster gait, as the ground was soft and Flynn undoubtedly enjoyed to run. Her eyes, formerly on the trail ahead, swept to her left, where Mikey and Cowboy were traveling alongside them. Her gaze, calm and nonthreatening, gave Mikey a quick once-over. She knew without a doubt he couldn't turn down an offer to race. Maybe later.

"Why do you hide your eye?" The question had come out suddenly, but Sonja's voice remained soft and curious. "I mean, you don't have to tell me, it's just--" She cut herself off, looking down and wishing that her hair could fall around her face and hide the shade of red her face was turning. "Never mind. I'm sorry." Sonja realized it could be something personal, otherwise, wouldn't he have mentioned something before? Or made a comment, anything! She put herself in his shoes. Would she be offended, or wouldn't she? Sonja kept her eyes lowered, feeling so incredibly stupid for bringing it up in the first place. She would feel even more foolish if his eye wasn't even a big deal; if it was, in fact, just coincidental and a trait that he might even find interesting himself. Sonja forced a smile. "You know, it might not even be something to be ashamed of. But you shouldn't be, if you are." Sonja stopped, not sure to continue talking or to keep her mouth shut and allow time for her racing mind to slow down. She decided to shut up. That's what she should have done in the first place, after all.

WORD COUNT: 781
OOC: For some reason this was really hard for me to write, but you've had to wait long enough. Sorry it sucks. D:
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[.~.T.e.a.k.~.]

The stallion blew softly, 'snorting butterflies' as Mikey sometimes had heard it called, and plodded easily alongside Flynn. The Paint stallion's neck and head were level with his withers once more, his eyes alert, yet retaining a slight sluggish look. Though Mikey knew that if he asked, the stallion would shift into a fast lope or run without any hesitation. Cowboy was just that way. His calm nature and attitude, even around mares, had made him an excellent ranch horse... whether it was for ranch work or breeding. So far, he'd passed on his calm disposition and easy trainability to all his get... that and he bred true for color. But those were just three of the reasons he'd been kept intact... he'd been successfully shown and placed in many areas of western riding and competing as well. Mikey grinned and slapped the horse fondly on the side of the neck as he thought back, envisioning his younger cousins riding the stallion, flying around barrels and poles alike... Fun times.

His attention was once again pulled back to the present by Sonja's voice. He grinned mischievously and nodded, showing that the wind hadn't affected his hearing any. I dunno how hard it is to believe or not... I couldn't imagine Cowboy here as a gelding, no offense meaning... He reached forwards and ran a hand down the horses neck again, ending the stroke with a gentle slap. Cowboy slung his head slightly, ears flicking back as if asking ''what was that for?''. Mikey's smile was wide as he looked back to Sonja, catching her eyes. I don't think he could imagine it either.

Cowboy kept moving lazily, even when Flynn stopped momentarily. Michael caught the questioning look in her eyes upon seeing his blind eye, but didn't offer an explanation. His brow rose slightly at the added emphasis on his name, and he looked at Sonja oddly, trying to figure out what it was about. He really didn't get it, to him; the nickname was just that... what he went by. He'd never been told it was cute or anything, so didn't understand quite why she stressed it like she had. He didn't bring it up, though. Instead, he just smiled some, looking a bit more than confused, but putting it off as just 'something girls do'.

The softness of the trail wasn't lost on the young man, nor, it seemed, the stallion. Mikey was hoping to get at least one good run out of Cowboy, but he'd decided to bring it up later, if they found a complete straight stretch. He didn't much like running around curvy trails, as he couldn't see what was on one side of his body and had only blurry vision in his other eye until he came within a few yards of what he was looking at. He'd learned to deal with it, though.

A very slight wince passed through him as she brought up his eye. He had hoped that she hadn't been paying attention, but apparently his hopes had been turned against him. He wasn't ashamed of his blindness, though it made him a little more than annoyed to know that most 'n' likely within five years he'd be completely blind. Less, actually... five years was just the estimate, the 'round off' so to say. A few minutes of silence passed before he spoke. It unnerves people. He said softly, My eye... I'm completely blind on my left side, and I'm slowly going blind on my right. He grinned, though there was a small spark of anger in his right eye, anger and pain. I don't tell many people. I started losing my vision when I was a toddler... I can't remember for sure, but I think I was around three when I lost sight in my left eye. Specialists said that it wouldn't affect my right, but my remaining sight started blurring randomly a few months ago, and I was told that I'd be completely blind in less than five years. As it is, I only have about... I'd guess seventy-five to eighty-five percent of my sight in my right eye right now.

Silence fell, the only sound being that of the horses hooves hitting ground. It was a steady, constant rhythm, relaxing.

[Alex]

AS HE DULGED INTO HIS story, Sonja regained composure and refrained from making even more of an idiot out of herself than necessary. The red flush to her face was beginning to fade, Mikey's voice calm (and somewhat bored) as if he was tired of telling this story again. Sonja noticed his body language and cringed with him. She hated putting people on the spot, and that's what she had done. She mouthed, "Sorry," but more so to herself, as he was still talking. Sonja glanced up at him, her gaze searching his. Silence overcame them and all that could be heard was the rhythmic beat of hooves against dirt. One, two, three four. She counted the beat as she racked her mind for something to break that silence. Sonja didn't want to say anything else that could be taken offensively; she had done her fair share of that already.

"It doesn't bother me." Sonja said softly, hoping he didn't feel as if she was uncomfortable with what he had shared with her. "I'm sure you've heard this before, but I'm sorry." She noticed him grin, and it was contagious - she smiled in return. But the all-too-familiar spark of anger was lit in his eyes. It stayed there momentarily before Sonja couldn't recognize it anymore. Why wouldn't he be angry? She sure as hell would.

The horses continued to advance, and the trail seemed to narrow as they came upon a bridge. A path broke off from their current trail, snaking down onto the other course, commonly used for endurance riding. Flynn clattered onto the bridge, his ears swiveling left and right as the sounds echoed off the stones and water beneath them. The creek rushing to their left reminded Sonja of when they had crossed it on the trail. She glanced over at Mikey and Cowboy, a smile tugging at her lips as the stallion's coat still appeared a bit damp from their horseplay. Emotion swelled inside her as she was reminded of the two's bond.

Once Sonja and Flynn were off the bridge and back onto the trail, she let the gelding turn and approach the water rushing fairly swiftly, now to their right. The bay lowered his head and dipped his muzzle into the water, pulling back quickly in surprise. Sonja laughed. "Is it cold baby?" She gave his neck an aimless pat as he lipped at the water once or twice before staying still to drink. Sonja lifted her chin and squinted against the sun. It had now risen above the silhouettes of pines and firs, rays of light angled in endless directions. The early morning fog had risen along with it, lingering at the tops of trees and swirling around their branches. Sonja rubbed her arms as the hairs on them rose; a breeze had swept in and it was rather cold, to say the least. The surface of the creek rippled, casting diamonds along the crests of each wave. Sonja found her gaze to be transfixed upon this sight for a moment further before forcing herself away. Her hazel eyes relocated Mikey, and there they stayed. "Have you lived here long?" Her voice came out light and airy, traveling on the breeze that continued to travel. Sonja figured, why not? There wasn't anything wrong with small talk. It wasn't like she wasn't interested, either. When Sonja asked a question, after all, she was almost always genuinely interested in the answer.

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WORD COUNT: 577
OOC: Sorry it sucks.
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