First Day [[open]]

[hnhsamson]

It had been a long time since Melinda had seen her baby, even longer since she had gotten to ride. She had three saddles. One was western, but she tended to jump in it. This was the saddle she would use the most, just for its convenience. It was practically new and with it she had a hott pink pad and a thicker green one for underneath that had built in bags. It was simply a great combination. She had two other saddles. One was more of a dressage saddle, or if you happen to know gaited lingo, it is a Messece. This is a really nice spanish brand of saddles, but she has had this saddle since the christmas when she was 14 years old, so it is getting fairly old in contradict to her western, which she just got about a month ago, before moving away from home for a second time.

Her last saddle was not your typical saddle that you would think of. A saddle is a part of a driving harness as well, and this is exactly what she has. Her horse, Aviador, has been lightly trained to pull, though he is not perfect at it yet. He is learning voice cues, ones that almost no other horse knows as well as him. He knows commands to walk, to corto, to trot and he even knows pivots and backups as cues. All the different cues though, would have to be explored when he is hooked up. He has only been actually hooked up to a cart three times, making him a beginner with driving. Melinda didn't mind though, she had taught horses to drive before, she would do it again. She loves doing so.

The female walked into her horses stall. Him, standing at about 15 hands high, give or take a few inches would never cease to amuse her. She couldn't help but to release a giggle as he walked over and tried nibbling towards her pockets. She decided she would get some treats and a few other things.

Walking to where all of her things were, she pulled out her grooming kit. This was complete with many rubber bands, brushes, and hott pink horse paint and glitter. She would use this all today. She also grabbed a thicker blanket, this was to protect his hips in a moment, and it also would help to keep him clean.

As she walked back over to where Aviador stood, the just-18 year old adult opened the door all the way, holding a carrot in her hand. It's alright baby, lay down. She coaxed towards him as she put the carrot on the floor outside the stall, on top of the blanket. Aviador rushed out of his stall, knocking into her and still standing up, searched her pockets once more. She chuckled as she sat down next to the carrot and waved it towards him. Lay down babe. she said quietly, knowing with his sensitive ears that he could hear her.

He walked over to her and took a nibble at the carrot. Melinda tapped the ground impatiently. Come on baby, I know you understand me... It's alright... I know this place is new, but no one will hurt you here. The girl said as the gelding's ears pricked forward to hear her. She saw him go down on his knees then fall to the ground. He fell almost exactly on the blanket, but his legs were off of it. He layed upright as Melinda got some tools from her grooming kit.

She got a mane brush and went through his mane, despite his bended neck at the time. She then braided it, doing about fifteen braids down his neck. This took her a little while, but she enjoyed the time with her horse. After this, she climbed around him, putting equine-safe glitter on various parts of his body. She decided that that was all she could do while he layed down. Melinda then stood up and laughed at him.

You already look handsome. She said as she motioned her hands upward, hoping he would at least take this cue. After he watched her for about 5 seconds, the gelding struggled to get up, for the blankets lessened the traction. Soon he was up, with nothing but about two tears to the blanket on the ground. Melinda, kind of dissapointed, tossed the blanket back to where the rest of her stuff was. She took one rubberband and braided his tail, far from perfectly. Then, with the pink horse paint, she lightly doused his mane and his tail and forelock, where braids were. She then created a dorsal stripe on him in pink and a heart on his butt. You look like a life-sized my little pony! she said with a chuckle as she went to get her tack. She tacked him up western today. Fastening every part of the saddle, she realized that her bridle had the wrong bit; it had the one for gaited riding. She quickly switched it over to a western bit, after struggling to do so with the newer leather and then put it on him. She realized something was missing.

Running back to the rest of her stuff, she grabbed a thing of pink hoof polish. She struggled for a minute or so to get it open but realized she couldnt so she simply took black hoof polish and did his hooves. Hoof. she said, in an ordering tone as she tapped the right fore-hoof. upon doing this, he lifted it up and she polished the rest. Once she was done with the rest, she tapped the other hoof. He lifted up his dial quickly and she slapped the top of his head gently. She knew teaching him to rear would be a bad idea...

Finally all the hooves were done and he was all tacked up. She took a step backwards and couldn't help but to laugh at him. You look so manly. She announced with a smile.

Full Done
Close up on head
Close up on butt and tail
Melinda's current look, along with worn-out brown boots

[[occ;; yes, I actually did this. My poor baby]]

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Anthony Lovasz]

As Anthony walked into the stable, he was greeted by two vividly contrasting whinnies. One was loud and bellowing, which belonged to the tall chestnut stud whose imposing structure demanded respect. The other was more quiet and peaceful, belonging to the small gray stallion whose lazy demeanor suggested anything but racehorse. He greeted each horse with an affectionate pat mumbling something to each of them in Spanish... it wasn't important what he said, the horses just like to hear him. The chestnut, King's Last Stand, automatically maneuvered over to the stall door and ever so lightly touched his muzzle to the jockey's shoulder, which to most people might appear strange, but anyone who knew the horse's story would understand.

King had been a champion, winning all of his races with impressive gusto, never letting another horse withing three lengths of him once he got the lead. But when blindness plagued him for reasons veterinarians couldn't figure, he was sent to an early retirement at a thoroughbred rescue farm. No one wanted to breed him, for fear his blindness would be genetic, so as soon as he stopped racing, he was declared useless. Anthony didn't see things the same way. Believing firmly in one of the greatest trainers to ever bring a horse to the track who stated that "you don't throw a whole life away just because it's a little beat up." He took King into his care, and began training the blind animal. It was no easy task, riding a blind horse, let alone riding a blind horse on a racetrack at a full extended gallop. It was going to take a long long time before he had earned the horse's trust enough to be able to do so, but he was going to, and it was going to pay off... he knew it would.

When he had gone blind, he had found a way to be more at ease, and in a way, almost see what was around him, and that way was to always walk with his muzzle pressed to Anthony's shoulder since sound and touch were the only things that he could use to be aware of his surroundings, and in this way Anthony acted as his eyes. He still didn't like being approached by anyone that he didn't know, and if Anthony didn't say something before touching him, King, not knowing whether it was Anthony or not, would strike out at the intruder. Anthony never reprimanded him for it. The horse was blind, it was the only way he could protect himself.

The gray, Shadow of a Doubt was a totally different story. He had absolutely no bloodlines to his name. His sire had been a relatively unsuccessful jumper, and his dam had been a failure of a racehorse that hadn't ever won a race and had been used as a packing horse once they gave up on her as a racer. When he had been born he was much too small, gangly, and knobby kneed... no one wanted him. But as a yearling he had been out in a pasture and simply for the joy of it, he had taken off galloping along the fence line after a car going down the drive which paralleled the fence. As fortune would have it, the passenger of said car was a racehorse trainer, Mr. Fently. When he'd seen the way the small horse moved, he knew that the animal was born to run... born to race more specifically, and later purchased the colt for a mere $500.

Unfortunately, the sweet little colt who loved to run had some sort of psychological issue with the track and would get violent as soon as he was on the track. He would fight his rider, try to attack the other horses... it was a disaster, and Fently gave up on him after running him in a few races all of which he had either lost because he wore himself out trying to attack the other horses, or was disqualified for attacking the other horses. Again though, Anthony saw potential, and asked the trainer if he could ride the horse. Fently warned the then 18 year old Anthony that the horse was uncontrollable on the track and he would hate to lose his greatest jockey, but Anthony insisted, and Fently gave in.

Within a years time Doubt's name appeared on the list of competitors in the Santa Anita. People were skeptical, most of them saying that even a jockey as great as Anthony Lovasz couldn't bring that horse in for a win, and at post time, Doubt's odds were 80-1, the long shot by far. For the first quarter mile Doubt's focus was on the other horses, trying to go after them instead of racing, and Anthony essentially had to jerk him to the outside rather roughly to get his focus back on the race and the rider on his back. Once that was done, Doubt seemed to fall into the right mindset and took of after the leader, taking up the perfect trailing position with his nose level with the leader's hip. Then with a sudden explosion of speed, he surged ahead, winning by half a length. Unfortunately right after they crossed the finish line, the second place horse misstepped and veered into Doubt, sending both Anthony and Doubt through the rail, the accident that ended Anthony's career for a year.

During that year's time, Anthony moved to Chicago, taking on the training of Doubt and King. After the accident, Doubt had gone back to his old ways. Violent and mean on the track, but a doll in the stable... only this time it was worse. Even when Anthony tried to ride him just on a trail, the horse would act out. Not necessarily violently or in a way to intentionally hurt Anthony, he just obviously had gathered more fears about being ridden since the accident. It was going to take a lot of time before Doubt would be ready for the track too. So for now, the trio of former champions was going to take it one slow step at a time here at Caramel Rivers, in hopes of one day working their way back to their former glory in the winner's circle.

After greeting each horse, Anthony turned to head to the tack room, but stopped about half-way there and looked, slightly skeptically, at the girl and horse in the stable hall. Apparently the girl had been bored or something, as her horse was all decked out in braids and... pink glitter paint? Well, it was Chicago, and he hadn't been here all that long... maybe this was a common thing people did around here. Then again, maybe people did it everywhere... he was accustomed to being at racing stables where all the horses were thoroughbreds and all of them were very stately, never "fun" or goofy. As far as he knew, it was possible that everyone everywhere who had non-racing horses painted their horses like this. Having fun? he asked the girl, his Spanish accent showing through the English words. Despite the fact that he looked like he was born in the U.S, his birth place was, in fact, Mexico, and his first language was Spanish. He'd been in the States for five years, but he seemed incapable of losing the accent. He had tried for a little while to get rid of it, but eventually gave up and and just came to terms with the fact that he would always have a Spanish accent... and he was okay with that.

King's Last Stand
Shadow of a Doubt
Anthony's current look

[hnhsamson]

The eighteen year old female heard a voice down the stable line, but she was too entertained in torturing her poor baby. She chuckled as she looked him over one last time.

He had been completely decked out. He had pink glitter, pink horse paint, and even braids. It had definitely given off a great reflection of her boredism, and she was proud of this. As she walked back towards him, she heard this voice. Before turning around to the lyrics of the other, for she was used to hearing other people laugh at her, or even just play along, the female kissed her baby in the nose. He nudged her shoulder, spreading glitter over her, but she didn't mind - it just made him that much more angelic and innocent.

The girl then turned around to face this man. He had a smaller stature, it seemed. Right away, by his build, she knew he had to be a jockey. She had seen western riders, they were usually more bulky and tall. She had seen english and dressage... they always looked gay to her. She had seen jockeys, and this reflected exactly the image she knew of them. She chuckled as she realized what he had said. He asked if she was having fun. Of course! She said, laughing a little harder as the horse threw his dial up in the air. Melinda had always enjoyed her days at the barn -- they were just something she couldn't bring herself to forget.

She then walked around the other side of him and jumped up. When she got up she looked down and realized that the other had not had a horse. Despite the fact that she knew her butt would soon be covered in pink paint, the girl jumped to behind the saddle and spoke. Walk on baby... Kip... Kip... The horse listened carefully. He walked slowly forward and to the right. Driving instructions did come in handy sometimes. And Ho... She said, her voice deepening by the millisecond. The horse stopped right in front of the other. All this was executed without even a single touch to the reins.

Hop on, I promise he'll behave! The girl said with a chuckle as she pet his butt. You will, won't you baby? She asked the horse as he nickered back to her. I swear, he has to understand every word I say. She says to the jockey as she awaits him to do something. She knew she could trust Aviador with double riders, for she has even thrown four kids on him before. It was a tight fit but they all managed to cram onto his back. I want you to ride a true horse. The girl said with a smile. she knew he would probably take some convincing to get up there, though she could always be surprised.

She had taught her baby to do so much. she had taught him to do just about everything. He could do team penning, he could do driving, he could do barrel racing. Heck, he had even been run in a real horse race, but that was just because she knew people that made it possible. Of course he lost horribly -- thoroughbreds were just too mean for him -- as soon as one nipped out at him, he spooked and slowed down drastically.

This boy was taught to do so many tricks it wasn't funny. She had taught him to lay down, as she had already demonstrated. He knew how to bow, how to act embarrassed, how to sit on things. Heck, this boy even knew how to rear! Of course he knew the simple tricks like the 'shake' trick and stuff. Those were just the basics.

Aviador De Zorro Rojo. The name only holds significance to but a few people, but those who know him will never forget him. He has shown so many people the times of their lives, including a girl who had been paralyzed almost her whole life, only able to move her upper body. She was 10 years old, and she got to get on Aviador. With two spotters and Melinda herself, the horse carried her into the sunset and into the joy the girl experienced. He was truly the best example for the Paso Fino breed.


[[[Occ ll Ach, sorry it's so terrible. I couldn't think of anything else to say! lol]]]

[Anthony Lovasz]

Being a jockey was probably one of the most dangerous jobs you could possibly have. You could never guarantee winning a dime, and the odds of you getting hurt or killed were exceptionally high. Anthony had gotten himself hurt so many times he couldn't even remember them all. If there was a bone in his body that he hadn't broken in the nine years he'd been racing horses, then there was no doubt that it wasn't going to be long before it would be broken... and because of his... dislike of doctors, it was worse for him because he refused medical treatment and kept right on riding. As of today, he'd broken his collar bone twice, his shoulder once, fractured his wrist, broken numerous ribs several times... I could go on all day, but for the sake of boring you with the gruesome details of all the injuries he'd received in his career to date. Of course, he didn't even have a medical chart in the States since he was adamantly against medical attention when he got himself hurt and no doctors had seen him since he was 14.

It was true, Anthony was definitely short. Considering the average height for men was between 5'9" and 6'1" Anthony was definitely below par there. If he was any taller though, he wouldn't be able to be a jockey. No trainer in their right mind would put anyone over 5'5" on their horses, and even 5'4" was pushing it. It may seem strange to most people when a guy was as conscious about his weight as Anthony was, but he had to be. If he got up over 115 there was a good chance he'd never get a mount. Generally jockeys were about 5'2" or 5'3" and between 115 and 120, but since Anthony was 5'4" he had to make sure to keep his weight down so that he wouldn't appear to be more of a burden for a horse than the other jockeys. Sure, one inch might not make too much of a difference to most people, but in the world of racing, weight and height were everything. Everyone wanted to give their horse the best advantage, and the smaller and lighter the rider the better, so Anthony had to balance out his height and weight to have the same benefit as a shorter rider that was heavier than him. He was used to people making fun of him for his vertical challenge... he just rolled with it.

He glanced up at the girl when she jumped up onto her horse and verbally steered the bay over to stand in front of Anthony and told him to jump up on "a true horse." She was definitely more out going than most people Anthony had met. She didn't even know his name and she was already asking him to ride double on her horse with her. Anthony was outgoing... but not quite that outgoing. Anthony definitely knew true horses... he rode the truest of horses since he was 13. Thoroughbred racehorses were probably some of the toughest horses out there. Their sport was hard and rough, they were running into each other, bumping shoulders, colliding with each other all while running at 45 miles an hour and fighting for good position. They were strong animals, and most of them were big and headstrong. They were definitely true horses, and King and Doubt were definitely some of the truest...they just had a lot of issues to get over.

I've uh... actually got a couple of ornery racehorses to ride... He said with a slight chuckle, they might not be too happy if they saw me on another horse before they got out to stretch their legs. Of course, Kind couldn't see... but even so, they were very jealous animals, especially Doubt. Although the little gray was exceptionally friendly, he would not take too kindly to Anthony on another horse while he was still locked in his stall. They might not be mean horses, but even they would get cantankerous in that sort of situation. All racehorses had a lot of attitude, and Doubt and King were no exceptions to that. In fact, just a few stalls down, that gray head was hanging out over the stall door watching Anthony with an expecting eye, and an impatient one at that. They were on a fairly tight routine. It was the same way every week. They were taken out three times a day Monday through Saturday, and on Sunday they got the day off aside from a short walk in the morning and turnout in the afternoon.

Western riding wasn't really Anthony's style anyway. He was... well he needed to exert vast amounts of energy into what he was doing or he would get bored with whatever it was he was doing, that was why high energy racing was his sort of sport. It took a lot of exertion to keep control over a thoroughbred race horse, and that was just what Anthony needed to keep himself on track. He had nothing against other styles of riding, they just weren't for him. He wasn't concerned about the horse misbehaving, the horses he rode never behaved... and that wasn't an exaggeration. He was known for riding the horses that other people had given up on, usually because they were just about impossible to deal with, but Anthony believed that every horse that had heart enough to run had the potential to be a good racehorse. They just needed someone that would give them a chance.

If you're up for a trail though, I can have one of them ready in five minutes... He said, pausing as if he'd just thought of something that might not be appealing to her, so long as you don't mind a bit of a rodeo. It didn't make a difference which horse he rode, there was going to be a rodeo either way. King spooked at unexpected sounds, and Doubt would fight Anthony every step of the way. Either way he was going to have to put up with the irritable character of a thoroughbred racehorse, and if she took him up on his offer, she'd have to put up with it too. He was used to it, but other riders might not appreciate the antics, and he would never go on a ride with someone without letting them know that there was going to be a fight. It was just common courtesy.

[hnhsamson]

Upon his rejection, Melinda couldn't help but to frown. She had never been rejected from such a thing before. Most of the time, the guys were like 'sure, why not?' just kind of weirded out by her and eventually they had time to talk and she made new friends. But he, he just seemed... different. The young female wasn't exactly pleased with this idea, but she would get over it soon enough. She chuckled with the statement about the racehorses. I knew you were a jockey. Upon the girl looking over this man once more, she noticed he was skinny. He was more narrow than her, and this surprised her. She wasn't exactly the most fit person, but she was never to be considered fat either... was she?

The girl questioned this internally before her horse began to paw at the ground. Upon this, she spoke to him. Hey. Her voice became like a million octaves lower, making it sound like a growl. The horse immediately popped his head up and stood alert once more.

The man then suggested a trail ride. He said he could be ready in a mere five minutes, but it would require for her to suffer through a rodeo. The female shook her head. Eh... I'm not up to a trail ride. I was actually going to just play around today. Work on bomb proofing stuff. I do the funnest things with my baby. She said, knowing it was nothing but the truth. The girl chuckled before speaking once more. Want to try some games with me? Or will your horses act up? She asked. Then she paused for a second.

They had never exchanged names. It never even crossed her mind. She seemed to, every time she met someone, she seemed to act as if she had known them her whole life. She always did, it was just something normal to her. Of course if you have something better to do, that's fine. She said, ignoring her previous though. Her whole face crinkled up before she sneezed into her sleeve. She spoke again. I'm Melinda by the way. Wow, what a great impression. Her thoughts couldn't help but to motivate her.

The girl jumped back off of her horse, making sure not to touch her pink butt to the saddle. She then undid the saddle and tossed it on the ground. Jumping onto the horse once more, she was on bareback. Crap.. She muttered. She leaned mostly off the horse, holding one hand onto the mane and grabbed onto one of the stirrups, untwisting it from the jumbled mess on the ground. She knew if she left it there too long, the leather would become bent in bad ways and be in terrible shape before long.

[Anthony Lovasz]

Racehorses... they were anything but the definition of bombproof. If Doubt would get over his apparent anger, then he would certainly be just about bomb proof when he wasn't being ridden on the track... but King... considering his blindness... would probably never be bombproof. Any unexpected sound would set the chestnut thoroughbred into a panic. Riding a blind horse was never easy, especially if it was a blind racehorse. King was a high energy animal, and his first instinct was to run, he always wanted to run... but he couldn't see, so he couldn't run... not yet... not until they trusted each other more.

Whether Anthony took the horse out on the trail or just to an arena or wherever she played her games there was going to be a bit of a rodeo. Racehorses were not easy animals to ride no matter what you were doing. It was their nature, they were high strung and dangerous. It was bred into them, and whether they were racing, exercising, hot walking, in the pastures, being lead from their stall to the cross ties, or anywhere in between, there was going to be a lot of high strung antics. There was no way to prevent it from happening. Anyone who had ridden a racehorse or an ex-racehorse would tell you that it just wasn't natural for a thoroughbred to behave perfectly.

They're racehorses, he said honestly, it's never pretty no matter what I do with them. He didn't want to come off as up tight or boring per-se, but his horses always came first. He didn't want them to get hurt, and considering how muscular but finely built thoroughbreds were, he had to be exceptionally careful with them. They were worth a lot... not only on the market for cash, but to Anthony sentimentally. The two horses completed him in a way, and they were important to him. They came before him, in every aspect. His whole life revolved around those two animals. He never did anything without first making sure his horses schedules wouldn't be interrupted. He was a jockey... it was how they all operated.

It was pretty obvious that he was a jockey. He was short, thin, but well built... not to mention the accent. Everything about him just said jockey. When you added in the fact that both of his horses were thoroughbreds, and very high strung thoroughbreds at that, it made it even more obvious that he was a jockey. Some people even recognized him from his days of fame when he was actually racing before the accident. He wasn't the sort of guy who'd had a huge fan base because he was so mellow about it all. He never appeared in the media aside from the newspaper when he had a big win.

He wasn't quite sure what to think of Melinda, but he wasn't going to make any sort of judgment. Anthony was about the least judging person there was. After his rough upbringing in Mexico... which was actually not an upbringing at all considering he basically raised himself. Anthony. he added with a slight nod to introduce himself, what'd you have in mind? He wasn't going to rule out doing something with her without knowing what it was first... but like I said, his horses came first, and if he thought there was any way the horse would hurt himself, then he wouldn't do it. Protecting those horses was his first responsibility. They were the only family he'd ever had, and he was going to keep them safe from injury.

[hnhsamson]

The girl heard his words and one word caught her eye... or ears? It was the word 'race horse.' She smiled at the thought of them. She smiled at the thought of thoroughbreds, and moreover, she smiled at the thought of Cooper. Cooper is her horse that is going to be here any moment. Her mom was going to be driving him up, for the place where she is currently living is about three hours away from Caramel Rivers. Her mother was also bringing her another horse, but she knew she could handle all three with ease. The girl got back to the conversation as Anthony spoke his name. He then asked what she had in mind.

She really didn't know. It wasn't boring old walking. It wasn't the old-school stuff of tarps and such, you know, walking over them and waiting for your horse to spook so you could reprimand it. No, this was more upscale. Melinda was excited for things that involved speed. Melinda got excited when she actually had to think to ride. Despite her western riding equipment, she was never the quiet or calm rider. In fact, sitting here talking had to be the longest she sat still in a long time.

An idea struck her mind, but she knew he wouldn't go for it. Plus, his horses would be so much faster than hers. Hell, I don't know. I'm not the kind to go walk around and stuff. I like speed. The girl said as she tapped her horse with her heel, stopping him from eating at her saddle. It may have been western, but never let looks fool you. I've probably freaked you out, haven't I? The girl said with a chuckle. She knew for a fact that most people she met or talked to didn't exactly like her again, unless they were more accepting. She had been to three different school districts in her life, and she only enjoyed one of them. For some reason, the other two just annoyed her. They pissed her off and things happened at one.

The girl realized her horses impatience at just standing there, so she took her left rein and pressed it against his neck and tapped with her right heel. The horse did a spin to the right, not even moving his back legs. She chuckled as she spoke. Ho... calm down baby. Just lettin' you stretch your legs. I know you hate standing. Don't worry, we'll be running soon. She said to him, chuckling as he tossed his dial up in the air. He always did that, everytime she spoke - even if it was something he didn't agree with.

She awaited a response from the jockey. Either he would come or he wouldn't. Either way, she was doing what she wanted. Either way, she was playing with her baby. Ain't no one who would stop her.

[Anthony Lovasz]

Anthony lived for speed. Speed was the entire essence of his life essentially. His horses had to be fast, and he had to be able to make decisions in the blink of an eye and follow through with confidence, even if it turned out he had made the wrong decision. Racing was one of the most intense and grueling sports out there, which was why so many people opposed it. Horses and riders got hurt a lot, and many people said it was inhumane... but no horse, if given a voice, who loved to run the way these racehorses did, would ever complain about racing. No jockey ever complained about getting hurt. They didn't sue tracks when they got injured, they didn't have huge lawsuits, most of them never even filed liability insurance claims against the track when they got hurt. They all understood the risks of the sport, and they were all willing to accept the consequences of the competition.

If given the opportunity, Anthony would have taken speed over the mundane walking he'd been doing the past few months if he and his horses were ready, but he knew that right now it wouldn't be a very good idea to run a blind horse, and Doubt... well, trying to run the little gray would only end in disaster, not to mention the fact that Anthony still had a lot of pain from the accident nine months ago. It took bones quite a bit of time to heal in adults, and considering Anthony had broken three ribs and his arm in the accident, it was going to take some time before all of them were healed enough to the point that he didn't have any pain. Plus, there wasn't anywhere here that he was quite comfortable with running the horses. He'd seen plenty of good horses take a misstep on a perfectly flat and smooth racetrack, he didn't want to risk either of his horses taking a misstep on the uneven ground here.

Sure, there were arenas, but galloping for an English or Western horse was an entirely different concept than that of galloping a racehorse. English galloping wasn't nearly as fast as racing, and western horses could turn quickly or stop quickly at the end of an arena... not racehorses. They were trained to run, and run fast in a straight line. The only turns they had to make were very wide turns and when it came down to it they were hardly tight at all. He could certainly try to keep the horses down to a canter... but considering the training his two had had to only gallop... it would be near impossible to do so without them getting angry and throwing him. Plus the ridiculous amount of tension he would have to keep on the reins would hurt like hell in his left arm where he'd fractured his wrist... all the way across the board it just wasn't worth it.

No, no... he said with a smile when she asked if she'd freaked him out, not at all. It wasn't easy to freak him out. He'd seen a lot of things in the 21 years he'd been alive, especially in Mexico, so he was sort of immune to being "freaked out" by anything. He was an extremely calm and level-headed person for a jockey, quite unlike most of them. I should probably just stick to the trails though... he admitted, having no qualms about turning down her offer. It was what it was, he wasn't going to risk injuring his horses. It'd be nothing short of disaster if one of those two got hurt. Not only would an injury further delay their careers in the racing world, but it would also be catastrophic for Anthony's career. He needed to come back in a way that people would remember him for. Right now people remembered him as the jockey who put a horse through the rail... and even though it hadn't been his fault, the blame fell on him. If he could bring these two horses back when the world had counted them out, that would overshadow his disastrous exit from the racing world, and he'd be able to get other mounts again. His livelihood depended on the two horses that he was retraining, and putting them in danger of getting hurt would just be foolish.

[hnhsamson]

The girl couldn't help but to sigh when she was rejected once more. Sure, she wasn't going to go home and cry about it, she just was disappointed in the let down. She wasn't exactly the kind to be walking down the trail and stuff - it just wasn't her thing. If she was going to do the trail, she wasn't going to be able to watch the scenery, except for what was right ahead of her. This girl tended to gallop down a trail and should it be long enough, she would walk for short amounts of time, just so her horse could get a breather. It was necessary for a paso fino like Aviador. He needed the time to relax between running or else he would get too excited or he would start to dread the trails. That was the last thing she wanted, for that would make the trails all the more dreadful for her herself. The girl decided she would change the subject.

She jumped off of Aviador. She took his nose close to her mouth and kissed him. Love you baby. She said. Then took off his bridle and walked into his stall. He followed her right in. Stand. She said, in a quite serious tone. The horse followed her command, barely moving a muscle. Upon walking out of the stall, the girl brushed off her butt, which of course didn't help much. She spoke to the man, instead of her horse for once.

Of course... I can't wait until my thoroughbred gets here. Mom's supposed to be driving him up. She mentioned, wondering if he would question it at all or if he would just... not care. The girl chuckled as Aviador snorted. Don't worry baby, you'll still get just as much attention. She said to the horse. He simply nickered and went back to standing. She walked over and pet him and he put his head down. She knew he wouldnt roll though, which is what she wanted to prevent. His shavings would look like a my little pony barfed on them.

The girl awaited some sort of response. Are your horses thoroughbreds? I would assume so, since they are racehorses, right? The girl asked, after not too long. Boy was Melinda impatient. Oh well, you can't be too mad, she just got bored easily.

[Anthony Lovasz]

Anthony had a very one track mind. Not so much in that he was always only thinking about one thing, but in that he could never think about more than one thing at once. He was horrible at multi tasking, and he was having a hard time keeping up with Melinda. She jumped from one subject to another so quickly he felt like he was trying to have several different conversations at the same time. Maybe other normal people would be capable of keeping up, but he was having a hard time of it. Trying to come up with responses to all the different things she was talking about and quickly to was not working out very well for him.

Her first statement to him was that she couldn't wait for her thoroughbred horse to arrive, then that her mom was bringing him up here, and then she was talking to her horse again, then she was asking if his horses were thoroughbreds. He wasn't really aware that other breeds of horses raced. Sure, he knew there were some quarter horses that raced... but they were generally no more than 1/4 mile sprints. Arabians raced, but people usually called them endurance racers, not racehorses. Then again, what did he know? He hadn't been here long, maybe people up here liked racing other breeds of horses too. But in his experience when someone said racehorse, they meant thoroughbred.

It took him a moment or two to respond, since he had to formulate responses to all of what she had just said before he could respond. They are thoroughbreds... they don't race right now, but they will soon. he said with a nod, What's yours do? All things considered, he was doing better than he normally would as far as keeping up with such a fast paced conversation. It was probably because it was about horses, and he could focus better when the conversation was about horses. Still, his response time was slower than it would be for most people. That was just how he was. He'd trained himself to focus everything on one thing at a time since he was 10 years old... that was 11 years ago... he couldn't change that now.

People tended to get used to his inability to multi task rather quickly. Whenever he was zoned out because he was concentrating too hard on one subject he would get a sort of absent and distant look that was almost non responsive. It could last anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes, and often if you wanted him to break out of his "trance" you would have to do something to regain his attention, which wasn't always easy. Usually though he would come out of it on his own after a few minutes. But it was always easy to tell when he wasn't hearing a word you were saying. It was a good thing for his racing, but not a good thing at all for his social life.