Post by Saera on Jul 17, 2009 10:29:42 GMT -5
Saera's boots clip-clopped against the pathway as she made her way down the stalls. She could almost be mistaken for a horse, what with her brisk pace and energetic demeanor. It was morning feeding time, and the feline was making her rounds, seeing if any horses went unfed. She paused at an unfamiliar face, despite his full feeder; she barely seemed to notice. "Hey, boy," she smiled in at him, carefully keeping a wide distance as not to startle the horse.
Motley Crew paced in his stall agitatedly. His owner hadn't come by for a day or two now, and the high-strung stallion hadn't been ridden in a while. This culminated in him being very energetic and trying to find all new ways to get in trouble. He was in the process of disturbing the horse in the adjoining stall when he heard a sound of someone - a horse? - approaching. Mot pricked his ears and shoved his muzzle against the bars of his stall inquiringly. He wasn't normally this friendly, but it was a quiet morning.
Saera decided not to appraoch any further; unknown stallions were sometimes better left to admire at a distance. Seeing his curious face, however, brought a giggle to her smile. The feline craned her neck to read his nameplate, Motley Crew, owned by Lilly Cicierga. "Ooh, so you're Mottie then?" Saera said, turning to his chestnut face. From where she stood she could make out his tobiano coat, lit by the neutral hall lights.
Motley Crew whinnied spiritedly, glad to at last have some attention. Mot liked having attention and showing off. Liked it a whole lot. And this furre seemed pleasant in the way she acted. So the stallion backed away and pranced around his stall, kicking up his hind legs and whinnying spiritedly. This stall was much bigger than his previous one, and he enjoyed putting on shows for people. If he could convince her to come closer somehow, then he might be able to get an apple or a carrot. Then again, most people didn't approach strange stallions.
Saera's smile broadened as she laughed at the boy's behaviour. Her curls danced on her shoulders, her hazel eyes agleam. She got a good view of his splendid proportions from this angle; he seemed to be of perfect conformation, which most favoured for Dressage. Saera, however, specialized in Show Jumping, and immediately noticed his potential in that domain. She couldn't help but be in awe and feel a flutter of excitement for Mot's sake.
Motley Crew went about the stall once last time before heading over to his feeder. It was much better being cooped up when you had an audience. He tossed his head arrogantly, messing up his mane which had been combed to near perfection earlier. It made him look disheveled and comical. With a happy grunt he buried his nose in the feeder. He hadn't had breakfast yet, although he realized how hungry he was after running around this confined space.
Saera gave the pleasurable stallion her presence for the morning, finding no excuse to leave his sight; all the chores had been done much earlier. The feline was a morning person, and could always be found in a joyous mood at sunrise. It was for this reason that she stayed longer to be entertained by the Dutch Warmblood, with a smile permanently plastered on her features. "You must be hungry, what with your performance," she said, peering in the stall. Perhaps she would advance a bit after he'd finished eating, if he was still in good spirits.
Motley Crew filled up on the barley and hay that was his normal diet to increase endurance, energy, and all that stuff. He was still invigorated. The warmblood turned his head and noticed that the furre was still watching. Most people left as soon as he started acting normal; it was nice to find someone different for a change. He trotted briskly around his stall as the food re-energized him. Once again he shoved his muzzle to the bars of his stall that separated them. This time, he caught her scent, and it registered in his mind as someone who was his friend.
Saera took a chance to approach cautiously-- with her experience, stallions are as cheerful as can be until you invade their space. Inoffensively, she showed the horse the palm of her hand, offering it for him to sniff properly. Unfortunately she was not familiar enough with him or with his owner to feed him any treats, and, besides, she wasn't carrying any on her at the moment.
Motley Crew sniffed the outstretched hand carefully. Without realizing it (since it was instinct), the stallion had become wary when the furre drew close, but wasn't aggressive enough to attack or throw a fit. And he wasn't a biter, anyway. Sure, he bucked and threw and reared and made his rider's life hell unless he was in the jumping ring, but Mot could be a perfect gentleman when he wanted to be. He nudged her hand and peered at her through the bars, and whinnied again. He liked this new boarding stable, where people didn't yell or act harsh in any way.
Saera grinned contentedly and withdrew her hand safely. She then bid him goodbye, as noon was approaching and her schedule called for other things. "See you around, Mot," she said, offering her best smile and continuing down the barn hall.
Motley Crew paced in his stall agitatedly. His owner hadn't come by for a day or two now, and the high-strung stallion hadn't been ridden in a while. This culminated in him being very energetic and trying to find all new ways to get in trouble. He was in the process of disturbing the horse in the adjoining stall when he heard a sound of someone - a horse? - approaching. Mot pricked his ears and shoved his muzzle against the bars of his stall inquiringly. He wasn't normally this friendly, but it was a quiet morning.
Saera decided not to appraoch any further; unknown stallions were sometimes better left to admire at a distance. Seeing his curious face, however, brought a giggle to her smile. The feline craned her neck to read his nameplate, Motley Crew, owned by Lilly Cicierga. "Ooh, so you're Mottie then?" Saera said, turning to his chestnut face. From where she stood she could make out his tobiano coat, lit by the neutral hall lights.
Motley Crew whinnied spiritedly, glad to at last have some attention. Mot liked having attention and showing off. Liked it a whole lot. And this furre seemed pleasant in the way she acted. So the stallion backed away and pranced around his stall, kicking up his hind legs and whinnying spiritedly. This stall was much bigger than his previous one, and he enjoyed putting on shows for people. If he could convince her to come closer somehow, then he might be able to get an apple or a carrot. Then again, most people didn't approach strange stallions.
Saera's smile broadened as she laughed at the boy's behaviour. Her curls danced on her shoulders, her hazel eyes agleam. She got a good view of his splendid proportions from this angle; he seemed to be of perfect conformation, which most favoured for Dressage. Saera, however, specialized in Show Jumping, and immediately noticed his potential in that domain. She couldn't help but be in awe and feel a flutter of excitement for Mot's sake.
Motley Crew went about the stall once last time before heading over to his feeder. It was much better being cooped up when you had an audience. He tossed his head arrogantly, messing up his mane which had been combed to near perfection earlier. It made him look disheveled and comical. With a happy grunt he buried his nose in the feeder. He hadn't had breakfast yet, although he realized how hungry he was after running around this confined space.
Saera gave the pleasurable stallion her presence for the morning, finding no excuse to leave his sight; all the chores had been done much earlier. The feline was a morning person, and could always be found in a joyous mood at sunrise. It was for this reason that she stayed longer to be entertained by the Dutch Warmblood, with a smile permanently plastered on her features. "You must be hungry, what with your performance," she said, peering in the stall. Perhaps she would advance a bit after he'd finished eating, if he was still in good spirits.
Motley Crew filled up on the barley and hay that was his normal diet to increase endurance, energy, and all that stuff. He was still invigorated. The warmblood turned his head and noticed that the furre was still watching. Most people left as soon as he started acting normal; it was nice to find someone different for a change. He trotted briskly around his stall as the food re-energized him. Once again he shoved his muzzle to the bars of his stall that separated them. This time, he caught her scent, and it registered in his mind as someone who was his friend.
Saera took a chance to approach cautiously-- with her experience, stallions are as cheerful as can be until you invade their space. Inoffensively, she showed the horse the palm of her hand, offering it for him to sniff properly. Unfortunately she was not familiar enough with him or with his owner to feed him any treats, and, besides, she wasn't carrying any on her at the moment.
Motley Crew sniffed the outstretched hand carefully. Without realizing it (since it was instinct), the stallion had become wary when the furre drew close, but wasn't aggressive enough to attack or throw a fit. And he wasn't a biter, anyway. Sure, he bucked and threw and reared and made his rider's life hell unless he was in the jumping ring, but Mot could be a perfect gentleman when he wanted to be. He nudged her hand and peered at her through the bars, and whinnied again. He liked this new boarding stable, where people didn't yell or act harsh in any way.
Saera grinned contentedly and withdrew her hand safely. She then bid him goodbye, as noon was approaching and her schedule called for other things. "See you around, Mot," she said, offering her best smile and continuing down the barn hall.