Through the Crosshairs

[Fionn Paquet]

Finn had decided to do training that morning without his grips, so when he'd done a routine on the highbar, he had ended up ripping his rips and because of this had decided to take the day off riding - and he was sure that Spur wouldn't complain.

However, rather than hang out in the House or rec room, he had his (D5200) Nikon camera around his neck and he was walking around snapping photos of anything that caught his attention, he knew that most of the photos he'd taken would end up in the recycling bin at the end of the day, but he always ended up with a few random photos that he would keep.

The horses and riders working in the arenas ended up being in the middle of his crosshairs as well. He wouldn't be sending the photos into any competition so he figured he wasn't doing any wrong by photographing people without their knowledge, and when they did know they would end up posing for the camera - while they tried to make it look natural - so he found that the best photos were taken without the subjects knowing about it... and if the photos came out nice, he'd put them on a thumbdrive and offer them to the person he'd photographed.

Walking closer to the round pen, he saw a horse moving around inside so he kept his distance - so not to disturb horse or human - and walked up the small rise a distance from the pen and sat down. Lifting the camera to his face, he looked through the viewfinder - sure, the camera had a live-view feature, but he liked the old-school way of doing thing - and he snapped rapid photos of the horse moving around in the pen, catching every other movement that the animal made.

[Colin K. Breen]

To Colin, it was known as the backing blues. He had gone through it enough with younger horses, to know to always expect the unexpected. So when he had taken the fat and lazy Pan from the paddock that day, it was definitely a reason to expect the unexpected. He had worked on Pan before, getting him used to a saddle, and a girth, bits and bridles, but no one had actually sat on the gelding before. Today, Colin was working with a nearly five year old fresh horse, who wasn't afraid to show his exuberance. He wouldn't be able to safely lunge the horse, considering Pan's old tendon problems, but setting the gelding around the arena a few times would not do any harm. If anything, he would have the focus of the gelding.

Leading the gelding to the round, he unclipped the gelding once they were in the middle and faced him, before picking up the schooling crop and set him off at a walk. Colin watched Pan's shoulder, which set the gelding into a trot. Once around the arena, and Colin raised the crop, slowing down the chestnut, eventually bringing him to a halt. Turning his shoulder, facing away from Pan, Colin waited for the gelding to approach him. Once that had happened, Colin rubbed the gelding's neck, smiling. Good boy, Colin murmured, We're going to do something different today, okay?

He poked the gelding in jaw as he saw the open mouth coming for, growling under his breath. Removing the head collar, Colin slipped on the bridle gently, doing up the throatlatch. He had removed the noseband, to lessen the pressure, and he watched as Pan played with the bit. It was a simple rubber snaffle, a straightbar, so that there would be no nutcracker effect. It was nothing new to Pan, but the saddle came next. Colin slowly tightened the girth, praising Pan for his good behaviour.

Lyrics: One Republic Word Count:... Credit: Onzy for BRRA. Please do not copy or steal.

[Fionn Paquet]

Finn's camera softly clicked away as he took photo after photo of the chestnut horse moving around the arena. It was only when the person in the middle of the arena called the horse in - and became a subject of the photos as he caught images of horse and human - that the boy recognised the man as being the manager of Spur's barn, and actually pausing the photographing for long enough, he recognised the horse from that barn too.

Finn was now using the camera as more of a telescope so he could watch what the man was doing with his horse, and as soon as he realised this, he quickly lowered the device and let it rest on his lap as he pulled his knees up so that his feet were on the ground. He could still see exactly what was happening in the arena now, but didn't so much feel like a spy. A smile played on his lips as he, once again, thought about the idea of telling his father that his was aspiring to be a photographic journalist. Though the joy he'd feel on seeing the look on his father's face would be short lived, and so not worth the effort.

Returning his attention to what was happening in the round pen, he crossed his legs, lifted the camera and once again started snapping photos of the horse being tacked up. He had no idea why she was taking the photos, but as he was side-on to the horse, he hoped that some of the photos of the gelding looking over his shoulder and watching the man would come out nicely.

[Colin K. Breen]

The chestnut gelding stood stock still as he became accustomed to the new weight on his back. Colin watched, knowing that usually, there was some sort of reaction from horses, and when it came, it was explosive. Walking the gelding on the outside of the ring, he paused and twisted the reins, looping the throatlatch through them. He moved back to the middle of the arena, just giving Pan time to sort out his own emotions on what was happening. There was no pressure for the gelding to move, and for a minute or so the gelding stood still. Colin clicked, and Pan picked up a walk, suddenly realising that the thing on his back wasn't going to be falling off. The gelding stopped again, snorted, and then took off, releasing a series of bucks that would make a rodeo pony proud.

Colin gave the horse his space, before stepping in to intervene. Okay, woah boy. Steady. Steady. There's a good boy, easy, he crooned, cracking a slight smile as the gelding stopped, breathing heavily and turned to face him. Approaching slowly, he rubbed Pan's forehead and then his neck, undoing the girth slowly, and lifted off the saddle and numnah. Pan had worked up a sweat, but it was a hot day out and the gelding had been acting like a loon. It was enough for today, and Colin was pleased that he had taken at least the first steps to backing his baby.

Lyrics: One Republic Word Count:... Credit: Onzy for BRRA. Please do not copy or steal.

[Fionn Paquet]

Finn lowered his camera and let it rest on his lap, the strap around his neck, and opened his hands, stretching his figers, and wincing when he felt the pull of the ripped skin. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." He muttered at himself, and hoping that he had enough of his hand cream left, though if he didn't he had other means of dealing with the pain. Being at camp had been fun, as it had allowed him to talk to past team members that he hadn't had a chance to speak to in a year or so.

Looking at the arena, he saw that Mr Breen had the now saddled gelding walking around the outside of the pen. Lifting the camera again, he slowly snapping photos of the horse until he could no longer get photos of the horse, and more fence. biting back a laugh as the young horse launched himself into the air the first time and he started rapidly taking photos once again, catching the gelding during every movement of each buck. Yes, he knew that it probably wasn't a good thing training-wise, but he couldn't wait to have a look at the photos when he got back to his room.

He took photos of the saddle being lifted off and then lowered the camera, feeling that he had spied on his barn manager for long enough, it was going to be strange enough when he handed the man a flash drive with the photos on it later. He lay on his back and closed his eyes, knowing that soon enough it would be time to make his way back to his Dorm to get changed for gymnastics... maybe he'd need to look into pain management sooner than he thought.