eli] [what's the use of wondering

[chuck]

Chuck hauled standards around the practice arena while Andy watched mockingly from the centre, one rein hooked behind a run up stirrup. In her torn jeans and 'Save the Oceans' t-shirt half tucked in, short sleeves rolled up to the shoulders, she hardly looked like the sophisticated rider she was, as if she didn't compare to all those who wore the fancy gear and didn't play music while they were riding.

After she had set up a satisfactory oxer Chuck led her gelding to the fence, where she mounted him. He always appeared to be just a little bit too big for her. Deftly and quickly because she knew Andy hated this part, Chuck put her foot in one stirrup and all but jumped on his back, swinging her leg over and seating herself as he danced, threatening to throw her. He'd be okay in a minute. She worked on transitions and some mundane warm-up exercises for a little while, but wasted no time getting to the fun stuff.

Andy always needed lots of release over jumps, no matter how little, and if she pissed him off enough he'd waste no time dumping her over his right shoulder. She nearly let go of the reins entirely every time she took her jump, though Andy hopped it like it was merely a pole on the ground. He was being perfect, but of course, Chuck got distracted. This time by a particularly good song on her iPod, plugged into a little battery-powered speaker and set on a barrel in the corner of the arena. She took the jump as normal but didn't give Andy as much release as he wanted. Chuck was at fault, of course, like always. It took Andy two quick, sharp bucks and she was face down in the dirt.

"The hell, Andy," She said into a mouthful of dust, wiping blood from her upper lip. She wasn't in any pain, just pissed at how much of an idiot her horse had just made her look like. She stood and took Andy's reins before anything bad happened and continued on like everything was normal, but they still shot each other contemptible looks from time to time, her horse seemingly trying harder to have her fall as she mounted again.

[valkyrie]

Eli was running late. It wasn’t his fault, per se… he’d woken up at a decent time that morning, then realized that he needed to run into town. So he had… only to get to the store and realize that he’d left his wallet and money sitting on the kitchen counter at time. By the time he’d gotten back home, he’d had to let his dog out and it had taken forever for the blasted animal to decide to pee. Finally satisfied, Parker had come galloping back inside the house, paws wet from the grass, and had slid straight into his owner… and when a hundred and something pound Bernese Mountain Dog runs into you, you go down. Hard. Eli had, clipping the side of his head on the counter. He’d woken up to find his oh-so-lovable giant had taken off out the front door, which was still open, and wet blood running down the side of his face.

It had taken forty-five minutes to track Parker down and lock him in the backyard… then Eli had washed his face, taped a gauze over the cut (which was deeper than what he’d originally thought), and left the house again.

No, it was not his fault that he was running late. Not that he really was running late, he had no horses to shoe or trim, and nothing to do really, but the fact was, half the day had already been wasted.

Eli sighed in relief when he pulled up in front of the stable. If he calculated correctly, he could spend a few hours here, then go to the store on the way home and maybe, if his headache didn’t lessen, stop by the pharmacy and get some over-the-counter aspirin. Damned dog.

The sound of his truck door slamming shut caused him to cringe, but he straightened and strode towards the large barn. He was dressed casually in faded Wranglers and a form-fitting black t-shirt with cowboy boots and a pair of sunglasses over his eyes… though the white gauze taped across the side of his face was more than out of place.

“Playboy!” His voice intoned as he closed in on his geldings’ stall. The Paint’s head appeared over the half door, and the horse nickered a greeting. “You gonna knock me for a loop too, huh boy?” Eli questioned as he pulled a bit of haystring out of his jeans pocket and looped it through the ring on the horses’ halter. “Come on, let’s have a bit of fun before this headache gets worse.”