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Post by Connor Hensley on Feb 1, 2011 22:18:24 GMT -5
Donatello's cremello body whirled around Conner as he cracked the lunge whip at the geldings heels. Connor's dark brown eyes studied his horse's every movement as Donnie continued cantering around him. From the rippling of a muscle to the rhythmic breathing of his four legged companion, Conner remembered every single thing there is to remember about his horse.
Once Donatello let all of his bucks out, Connor began tacking him up. God, does Donatello look beautiful in black.. Connor placed his favorite therapeutic Courbette saddle pad upon Donnie's back along with the raiser his parents bought him. Connor turned around and picked up the dressage saddle his mother gave him as a graduation present from when he was in high school. Synthetic is the best to practice in.. If it gets horribly dirty, you can just drop in a bucket of soapy water. It was perfect. Especially for a guy like him.
Once the final strap on the bridle was buckled, Connor gave Donnie a quick pat on the neck before swinging himself up on his back. Donnie let out an "umph" once Connor was on and began prancing. He wanted to get moving. Connor chuckled softly,"Easy. Steady does it." He coo'd sweetly into Donatello's ears before giving him a subtle kick. The gelding began at a collected trot as they turned the first corner of the arena. Connor eased Donnie into an unexpected halt and reached over to his iHome that was resting on the wall. He quickly tapped play and Bobby Daren's "Beyond the Sea" began playing loudly through the speakers. Connor felt his reins jerking in his hands and turned his attention to Donatello. Donatello began bobbing his head to the smooth beats as Bobby crooning echoed into the large arena.
Connor grinned and urged Donatello forward. Donatello's favorite thing to do when this song was playing were flying lead changes and the passage. Each dramatic pause of the passage felt like they lasted forever. One. Hesitate. Two. Hesitate. One. Hesitate... The way Donatello moved was like no other. This horse was truely a work of art.
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Post by forsaken on Feb 18, 2011 14:42:03 GMT -5
Setting the comb back in place, Silver debated on weather to put the polish oil on the mare, but then figured not to. Taking the grooming set back she vanished into the tack room before coming back out with her tack. Sayda bobbed her head again, extending her neck before stomping the ground with her left fore leg eagerly. Placing the saddle blanket, saddle and breast collar on her, she flipped her mane to the other side. Then she wrapped the white polo wraps on the mare's legs. Her rich coat color looked nice against white, and black.
Walking over to the mare's head she slipped the halter off, to replace with her leather bridle, simple snaffle D bits were slipped into the mares mouth. Sayda mouthed it a couple of times before Marie locked the throat latch and set the halter back on it's rail. Fully tacked and eager, the mare did a little side step, one she was famous for and neighed. "Alright, were going" Silver mused as she curled her fingers along the bridle's reins and led the female out to the indoor arena.
The doors were closed, so resting the reins on her shoulders she slid the doors open, just enough to fit herself and the mare through. As the last films of her tail went through, Silver quietly closed the doors and moved over. Looking up ahead she saw a stunning horse doing a transitioned walk, the rider had like the perfect siting on the mount. Blinking curiously Silver pulled Sayda to the back bleachers and sat down to watch. The coat of the gelding was quite rare to her, whiter then any dominant white horse out there, a cremello. Sayda stood there, eying the gelding and rider curiously, ears pulled back. Silver knew better then to hold the reins stiffly, since she knew Sayda would bail out if they drew near her.
She had seen dressage performances here and there, but it never appealed to her. She preferred chasing above all others, that and endurance. But watching them move was gracious and uplifting, as she let one of her fingers lightly rub on the mare's cheek and then on the branches of her jaw. The leggy chestnut nickered in content and lazily closed her eyes, ears drawn sideways in a very relaxed manner. That was her tickle spot which Silver had found days after taking her home. Taking her eyes away from the stallion and his handler to look up at her chestnut who seemed at bliss besides her.
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