.Helotes {padding:10px; background:#749d52; color:#000; opacity: 1; filter: alpha(opacity = 80); line-height:120%;}
.Helotes b{color:#8c461e; text-shadow:1px 1px 0px #000; font-weight:bold;}
.HelotesFooter {background-image:url('http://i42.tinypic.com/110zjtv.png'); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:right;padding:120px 0px 0px 0px}</style>
Around and around the field Frodo lunged the horse, steadily but surely. He continued to whisper, talk, and shout to the mare until she got the general gist of what was going on. Eventually, he clicked between his teeth and tongue, attempting to get the horse into trot. He had no idea whether the horse understood the command or not, but still pulled the rope a bit tighter so Rohan would have to speed up anyway. While clicking, the wolf finally managed to get the horse to do what he wanted it to. He watched the horse with ease as it trotted around him, and was confident it would be quite sound and easy training the intelligent, calm mare.
On the edge of the clearing, another scent caught his nose. He ignored it, because obviously being in a pack he was used to different smells coming and going. After a while though, the scent still lurked. He didn't take his eyes off the mare but slowed her to a halt, pulling the rope sharply. Woaaa-ooohh... he said, and Rohan was soon still. His head cocked to the side and he turned away, the rope still in his hand as he examined the stranger on the edge of the field. Ever curious and friendly, he lifted his spare hand and gave a gentle wave, while wagging his banner in an excited manner.
Gently, he pulled the rope towards him by continuously wrapping each hand around the piece in front, until it was wrapped and coiled. He untied Rohan to let her graze, for she had trained well today and he was happy with her for the moment. Frodo then approached the halted male, his black curls bouncing around vigorously, the golden-ginger ones on his head floating through the air in wispy tendrils. Pushing a paw through his fur, he stopped in front of Anatole, grinning widely from ear to ear. Lovely jubbily, aint she? he questioned, nodding over to the bay mare. He leant back on his heels and his green eyes twinkled. What's your name then, starfish? Black yer eye with a chance of rain, I'm Frodo! he exclaimed, clenching one fist in an absurd way.
[/html]