plenty of sunshine headed my way [OPEN]

[Delany [HAMPTON]]

my, oh, my, what a wonderful day
zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-tee-eh

Delany led a bareback Jupiter out into the arena. "Hey boy, just take it easy, huh?" she asked the massive black gelding. The horse snorted, shaking his head before lifting it again, his nostrils flaring as he danced and pranced. The girl shook her head a little, though a smile touched her lips. The four year old was feeling pretty good after the long lay off, from moving and then quarantine from London. It showed in the way he carried himself, and the way his muscles seemed to roll with limitless amounts of energy. "Just chill out a minute" Delany said with a slight laugh as she fumbled with the gate.

She finally got it open, and the big black horse pranced behind her and into the indoor arena. The place was deserted for the moment, although Delany doubted it would stay that way long. It seemed arenas never stayed empty long, unless the weather was nasty. The indoor was clean and cool , and Delany admired it a bit before she finally turned to Jupiter.

Her attire of the day looked a little fancy to be down at the barn, but Delany didn't care. Jeans covered her legs, artfully washed and faded. A white tank top sat underneath a pink jacket thing, and her curls were swept up in a high, "preppy" pony tail. The only thing about her that really looked ready to ride rather than to go to some fancy dinner were her riding boots. They were worn from much wear and tear, but slipping her feet into them was practically like slipping into the hug of an old friend. They had been through a lot together, Delany and those boots, and she refused to be rid of them, even though it wouldn't have killed her to invest in a new pair. Honestly, though, she looked preppy and maybe a little snooty, but one didn't have to speak to her for five minutes to know that wasn't the case at all. The big black Hanoverian gelding turning to lip her elbow and then snort horse snot all over her, and her lack of squeal or response other than a laugh, might have proved that point to. Delany was no snotty prep, and she hated nothing more than to be mistaken as one.

The girl was short, standing maybe a few inches over five feet tall, and the big black gelding had to stand at least sixteen hands, maybe closer to seventeen. Still, the girl stepped back to his shoulder, and, in one step and a big leap, had a leg hooked over his back. She looked a little ridiculous, hanging off his side like a trick rider, and it was hard to tell whether she was getting on for falling off. "There's a good boy. Don't pile me, now" the girl murmured as she grabbed a hunk of mane and wriggled herself the rest of the way on. She patted the gelding's neck rewardlingly, but the big black was done with being patient. He snorted and tossed his head, his front hooves lifting off the ground with impatience. Delany laughed and shook her head. "Just take it easy my friend" she murmured with a laugh.

Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she nudged the gelding out into a long trot. She sat the movement easily, her butt hardly leaving the horse's back. After a few circuits, she moved him up into a collected canter. Even with short steps and a "slow" pace, the gelding's long legs still covered ground at a good clip. He moved out without even trying. He was just a fast horse naturally, and really, it was hard to slow him down. Delany loved him, though. She liked going fast once in a while. One hand to escape the high demands of eventing once in a while and just whing it a little. Today was one of those days, and Delany felt pretty good. SHe liked this feeling. She loved bareback, and being so close to her horses, even if it did leave her jeans dirty in the end. It was a small price to pay for the satisfaction.

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word count; 691
tag; open
notes; none

[Sarah Brightman]

_______________________________________

The transition had been a rough, long period for Chromaggia. The second Sarah Brightman had stuck her foot in the stirrup, the usually agreeable, well-mannered mare was having one of her "Arab mare" days. She flung her head as she tried to pull forward before Sarah was even settled on her back. Sarah pulled back firmly on the reins to halt her, uttering a low, warning, "Whoa."

[/i] to conclude her command. With an obviously aggravated sigh, Mag stopped in her tracks.

"I'm not going to have any of that, missy," The Berkhamsted-born woman in her early thirties warned her mare. Sarah was clad in jeans and a black short-sleeved, fitted t-shirt, but because Sarah was pretty small in general, it was still on the loose side. Leaning to adjust her stirrups, she headed toward the indoor. She'd seen the big black horse in the distance and the younger girl on his back. The gelding looked immense in comparison to the girl, but the pair seemed like they got on brilliantly. Sarah nudged Mag with her heel and the Polish Arab started forward. Once Sarah had gotten close enough, she heard the girl speak to the gelding and her interest was caught. The girl, clearly no older than sixteen or seventeen, was from the UK as well. Judging by her accent, Sarah figured they came from different areas of England, but nevertheless, it was nice to hear a familiar accent.

"Mind if we join you?" Sarah said from outside, wanting to make sure she wasn't going to unsettle the Hanoverian if she and Mag entered. Mag's fluted ears pricked as her head followed the other black horse that dwarfed her, as he made his way around the ring.[/blockquote][/size]