Post by DYLAN ANDREW PERHAM on Jul 19, 2012 0:23:50 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] YOU'RE JUST AN ANGEL TRYING TO LOVE THIS MORTAL MAN Riding: Guns Blazin' Outfit: Click Notes: Open to anyone Dylan was feeling adventurous today. He had tacked up Blaze all by himself (thanks to handwritten instructions via his friend and self-appointed teacher of all things horse-related, Emma) and had mastered the basics (mostly stop, go, and turn) of riding. And in true Dylan fashion, he wanted to push his limits. So, naturally, a trail ride by himself was the way to go. He squeezed Blaze's sides (gently, like he'd been taught) and the buckskin gelding moved forward at a lumbering walk. Dylan smiled, pleased with himself. The first time he'd clambered onto the gelding's back, he'd kicked him to make him move, like he'd seen in the movies. That hadn't gone well. In hindsight, it probably hadn't been a good idea. Neither had been trying to gallop when he could barely stay on at a trot, come to think of it... He hadn't even known there was a... what was it called? A gait in between a trot and a gallop. Not that he could stay on at a canter anyway, but it was interesting to know. And yet he persevered. Dylan had figured that staying on the trail that followed the river was the way to, since there was no way he could get lost. He made sure no one was around before placing his left hand on the large pommel of the western saddle for extra support. He knew it wasn't what you were supposed to do, but he felt safer that way. Dylan tried to go what Emma had told him and sink his weight into his heels through his calf. He didn't quite grasp why that was important, but apparently it really was, so he did it nonetheless. Beside the constant throbbing of his butt and thighs, the trail ride was rather nice. Dylan found himself relaxing into the rhythm of Blaze's walk. Since the horse was the only part of his mother he had left, he found it pleasant to be around him. Other horses tended to make him wary, but not Blaze. Blaze reminded him of his mother's laughter, and the earthy way she used to smell when she got home from the barn. Although it was proving to be a lot more work than he expected, Dylan was glad he decided to keep the horse instead of selling him. As the two meandered down the trail, Dylan practiced weaving the buckskin horse around rocks, as well as stopping and starting again. |