Put Through the Paces

[Isaiah Beringer]

During the past several days, Isaiah had started to become accustomed to the academy and where things were. However, despite having been to all the buildings on campus, he had yet to take Zephira out and put her through her paces in the dressage ring. Today seemed like a good a day as any, and making sure it was alright with the instructor, Isaiah meticulously groomed his mare, saddling her and leading her toward the ring. The weather was bright and calm, without a cloud in the sky. Isaiah had decided to wear his tan breeches, black boots, and a royal blue polo shirt. Of course, he made sure to slather on sunscreen; though it was winter, his fair skin would still be able to burn in the sunshine.

Securing his helmet, Isaiah double checked that the girth had been tightened appropriately. Swinging up into the saddle, he rubbed Zephira's neck briefly before nudging her forward into a walk. The pair entered the ring, Isaiah preparing to work on his flying changes and piaffe mostly. He started by nudging her into a brisk extended trot, preparing to execute the piaffe at the designated marker. Zephira was a bit late, but she did manage to go into a piaffe. He rode through the highly collected movements, continuing around the arena once before deciding to move on. At the next marker, he cued for Zephira to go into a nice, simple canter. She did so happily, letting out a snort as she did so. Isaiah rode her toward the next marker, taking a deep breath as he cued for the flying change. Zephira always seemed to have difficulty with this maneuver, surprising since she had less difficulty with more complicated moves. Still, Isaiah had hoped his mare would have improved, beaming when she broke into her flying change at just the right moment.

He could not see which legs she was leading with, though from feel alone, he could tell Zephira had finally gotten it correct. Deciding she had earned her break, Isaiah cued for a walk at the next marker, allowing her some free rein as he patted her neck. When he glanced up, Isaiah saw that he was not alone out here; someone had been watching him. Riding up closer, Isaiah offered a smile, Zephira whinnying her hello. "Hi there. You here for a bit of practicing too?" he asked the man, wiling to share the arena, and possibly give each other pointers, if that were the case. 

[Ashley Andrew Stephens]

Drew really didn't feel like riding. He was feeling depressed and had been since the previous afternoon. His Academic Decathlon team sent him a nice 'We Miss You!' card, but it was impossible to ignore some of the comments on Twitter about him. He knew he shouldn't let their gossip get to him, but it was hard. There were all sorts of rumors trying to figure out why he left. It ranged from the mundane like his dad getting a new job to someone thinking he was running from the law. Only his friends from Science Olympiad and Academic Decathlon knew the real reason, and they promised not to say anything.

He slammed his laptop shut and put Sininen back in his cage. The little budgie was allowed free reign of the room while Drew was around to supervise. Half a millet spray helped to appease the little creature. "I like millet! I like millet! Pretty bird! I am a parakeet! I am a smart bird! Pretty bird!" Drew gave a half-hearted smile and closed the cage door. A talkative parakeet was a happy parakeet, and Sininen was rarely silent. Usually his vocalizations were chirps and whistles or indecipherable babble. The boy grabbed his messenger bag and tossed his sketchbook, pencils, and a stick of charcoal inside. Even if he didn't draw much, just being outside usually helped.

His first stop was the dressage arena. He wanted to get a feel for the space he would be riding in for lessons. And of course it was occupied. Drew watched for a little bit somewhat enthralled by the gorgeous horse and the rider. Friesians were always muse inspiring with flowing manes and tails and those feathers. He stuffed his hand in his bag to grab his sketchbook and charcoal hoping to get a couple sketches in before the rider noticed him...and too late.

"Uh, yeah? Do you mind if I make a few sketches of you and your horse? I'm Drew, by the way."

While it was true he wanted to practice, the sort of practice was probably not what the other boy had in mind. Drawing practice instead of riding practice. He pulled out his sketchbook and charcoal stick to show he was serious. If the other boy liked some of the sketches, he was welcome to have them.