Hay is for Horses

Wayne McCoy · 03-16-2012, 05:14 PM

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Wayne McCoy

Pretend I know what I'm doing!
Also, wrap up soon? +3

Wayne had grown up riding horses the conventional way. Others spoke to their steeds in the equine tongue and galloped free of anything more than a blanket on their horse’s back, fingers knotted into their mane for lack of reins and bridle. It was perhaps the more natural way, the way horses would be tamed and ridden in the earliest years of domestication, if domestication could be considered natural. However, although he respected that way of riding and occasionally went without a saddle underneath him or Western-tied reins in his hands, he had grown up where tack was normal and low speech not and had learned that way. He’d carried a saddle around in his arms since his first shift, had sat draped across a bay’s withers as his father drove cattle. It was the easiest thing in the world for him.

He recognized that not everyone learned the same way or used the same techniques for doing things, and it was why he kept a careful eye on Hadley, especially with how timid the male was. He wouldn’t trust any other horse than Fern for this lesson. Greener mounts would have captured his nervous energy and become skittish and unruly, while a mare like Gypsy would take full advantage of his submission and use it to get her own way. Fern, however, was used to new riders and had the perfect temperament for it—calm, understanding, and forgiving of minor transgressions a nervous rider might commit.

Protective of both his pack mate and the horse he’d come to adore, Wayne watched the male pull himself up into the saddle. It looked good, at least until he started hunching as if under the gaze of an alpha, and the Labrador suppressed a snort as he came near to give a gentle correction.

“You’ll need good posture if you don’t wanna fall off,” the dog hybrid said. “Sit square an’ tall, not too stiff.” He bent momentarily to make sure the stirrups didn’t need adjusting. Everything seemed fine, and he kept an eye on Hadley to make sure he was at least attempting to relax.

“All right.” He stood back. “Don’t worry ’bout steerin’ right now,” he said, glancing around at the pen. “Just give her a lil’ squeeze with your legs, and she’ll start walkin’. If you wanna stop, pull back on the reins—pull, don’t jerk. I’ll let ya do whatever ya want to now.” He grinned.

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