`boys call you sexy. OPEN

[baidan]

This was kind of Aidan's first day at the barn, but her horses ahd already been here 3 days. After looking at nothing but boxes and the purple walls of her new room, she needed the fresh scenary of the barn. Only it wasn't the same. Everything was new and she felt like some kind of virus at this new place. When she dropped her horses off, everyone seemed so keyed on everything and everyone knew she didn't belong there. But riding wasn't all about having friends and looking like you belonged at the ring you were riding in, right now it was about her horses. Her mom hadn't brought her car up yet, so she had to depewnd on her father for rides everywhere and she no longer lived a walking distance away from the barn, so in his Chevy pickup she sat.

They rode in silence as she stared at the window and watched everything pass. 'So, who you riding today?' Leave it to her dad to try and break silences. She shrugged her shoulders and looked over at him. If I have time I'll ride both of them, but Finnegan's the one that needs the exercise. He simply nodded and began making comments on what a heated horse Finnegan was most of the time. She shifted her gaze back out the window just as they turned down the drive of the barn.

She waited until the truck came to a complete stop before she bent down to pick up her riding gloves and her helmet and opened the door. 'Call me when you want me to come get you.' She gave her father a small smile and nodded. Alright. Thanks for the ride. She slid out of the truck and shut the door, walking inside of the barn and listening to the tires of her father's truck crunch against the gravel. As she made her way down the asile of the barn, she first stopped at Charlotte's stall. She wanted her horses to be right next to each other, but they didn't have any open stalls that were neighbors. She set her helmet down next to her stall with her gloves inside it and smiled at her trusty, oversized pony. Hey there, sweet girl. She opened the door just a little and watched Charlotte's ears perk and take a few tiny steps towards the door where Aidan stood.

Aidan stepped into the stall and waited for Charlotte to make her way over to her. The bay sniffed at Aidan's hands before she gently pushed her head against her chest and rested it there. Aidan smiled, softly running her hand along the horse's long neck. How y'uh holdin' up? She looked down at Charlotte almost as if she was expecting an answer, all Charlotte did was heave a small breath. Aidan smiled again, seeing that as her answer. I know it's different, but it doesn't seem so bad. You'll get used to it.. We both have to. She took a deep breath as her horse lowered her head to the ground at Aidan's feet and sniffed it.

Aidan looked watched her for a moment before she walked out of the stall and closed the door. She took a few strides down the asile before she looked into a stall with a tall, chestnut beast inside. Finnegan perked his ears at her and snorted. She smiled at him. Hey, pretty boy. You wanna go for a ride? He took a few steps towards the door and waited by it, almost as if he were begging her to let him out. The poor thing had probably been cooped up all morning. She took the leadline off his door and opened it just enough to reach her hand in considering Finn always let his Throughbred get the best of him and would run people over if he deemed fit. Once the line was latched to his halter, she fully opened the door and let him walk out. Easy, boy. Not that he ever listened.

She walked him down the asile until he was in front of Charlotte's stall where her helmet and gloves were and hooked him to the cross ties. Now, stand. He never really listened to that, either. Whenever she'd walk away he'd usually side step all over the place and neigh until she was on her way back, but he was never a retard and broke anything... on purpose. She pet his neck quickly and made her way towards the tack room.

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[Rhedd]

Her day had not been the most appealing of the couple thousand she had already lived, and most certainly wouldn't be the last. Charlotte's coffee had spilled in her old T-Bird, and the hot liquid had spilled on her jeans as she was driving to the stables.

Classic scenario of a day with Charlie LeReux. Pulling into the parking lot by the main office and lounge, the nineteen-year-old whipped out her riding boots from the trunk, hugging them under her armpit as she locked the 'Bird.

Although her day had not been off to the most spectacular start, Charlotte knew it would get a lot brighter once she was able to be with Manticore again. That boy always got her feeling good about life again. Slipping into the slightly-darker-than-outside barn, Charlotte dropped her boots by what appeared to be a shoe rack, and hurriedly strode down the isle; careful not to spook people and their horses.

Passing a girl who had tied her horse to the cross-ties, Charlotte averted her eyes and ducked under the ropes, giving the horse a light pat as she walked past.

Cute horse, she thought before finally reaching the newly-bedded stall that had a shiny new plaque attached to the bottom hatch.

Man in Manticore
"Manticore"
Charlotte LeReux

And there, just about her head, was the gorgeous frame of Mant, his full-blown Arabian features staring down easily at her. Charlotte sighed, blew gently on his nose, and opened the stall door.

"Morning beautiful," she whispered, sliding her arms around Manticore's sturdy neck. She loved just inhaling his 'horse scent'. Pressing her nose into his starting-to-shed winter coat, Charlie inhaled and planted a kiss.

"Let me go grab your tack, eh, Mant?"

Her conversations with her horse never came as unusual to Charlotte, only natural. He always would listen, even if he could never answer back. At least not in French or English. Brushing her fingers lightly on his cheek as she passed, the black-haired woman exited the stall, striding down past the cute cross-tied horse again, and entering the tack room.

She had left her saddle and snaffle in here the other day, when they unloaded Manticore: now she just had to find it. Many other saddles appeared to be English-made, and only a few Western. This made life a lot easier.

Passing the girl with the other horse, Charlotte lifted the thick saddle with the peeling seat-leather, and threw the accompanying bridle over top. Just on her way out, the woman felt the bridle slipping, but with her hands full of saddle, had only the option of letting it drop.

"Blast," Charlie muttered, setting the saddle down and bending over to retrieve the lost tack. Standing back up, she smiled sheepishly at the other girl.

"Sometimes I think it only happens to me," she said with a tiny laugh.