Life is a highway (open)

[Carlos Rodriguez]

Carlos tugged the lead gently, letting the lightly dappled mare walk elegantly into the arena, her nostrils and eyes wide as the wind whipped around outside the indoor, making for random noises to be heard every few minutes. The teen moved around the mare carefully, favoring his left leg... his left side. He knew he didn't look too well, what with bruises along the side of his face and, under his long-sleeved turtle-necked shirt, the dark splotches also ran down his arm and across his chest where his younger mare Lily had thrown him the other day. He knew from the mirror that morning that his normally tanned skin was pale and he looked as though he hadn't slept well, which he hadn't, due to the pain that coursed through his body like a tidal-wave when he moved wrong. He was sure he had been gifted with a broken rib from his younger mare, due to the coloring of the bruises along his chest and the pain when he breathed too deeply, but the boy had decided against going and getting checked out, as he wasn't one who liked to have too much attention heaped upon him and he already felt as though he had too much attention drawn to him simply be being 'an interesting teen from overseas'.

The Spanish boy sighed softly and eyeballed the saddle that sat on the mare's back. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the hurt from his side, he tightened the girth up several notches and then staggered back, clutching his ribcage, breathing ragged. "Lacera..." his voice was even rough today, not the soft, accented tone he usually spoke in. "Please... do not behave skittishly today."

The mare merely snorted and sidled up to her owner, nudging him gently with her head. She had no mean bone in her body, and neither did Lily, but Lacey was much more experienced and calmer than her filly. Carlos straightened after a few minutes and placed a hand on the grey mare's nose, giving her a small smile and checking the bridle before starting to lead her to the mounting block to get on.

[Bruce Ropata]

Even with having to battle with the wind, there was a merry bounce in the mounted games instructor's step as he led his Stationbred cross into the indoor arena. The man loved the outdoors and would use the outdoor arena in pouring rain over being indoors, but the wind was a completely different kettle of fish.

The Maori's eyes landed on the boy leading his horse toward the mounting block. He stood silently at the arena gate as he watched how the teen was moving, a frown creased the young instructor's face. He'd had enough crashes in his youth to be able to easily pick up the tell-tale signs of an injured person - both from horseback while trailing sheep at speed on a rocky hill, or from a quad-bike while racing friends through mud puddles and finding that one of the puddles was a heck of a lot deeper on one side than the other and you lost a tyre.

"Are you sure you wanna do that, mate?" He finally spoke up as he led the large gelding into the arena. "To me it looks like you should be in your bed." He dropped the gelding's reins and walked over to the teen, knowing that the gelding wouldn't move and inch until the man too the reins once more. "Where you hurting?" Bruce wasn't known for batting around the bush when asking questions.

[Carlos Rodriguez]

Carlos was very aware of every small flinch the Lusitano mare made when the wind whipped through outside, howling as it blew. He wondered, briefly, where the wind had come from, but knew from the weather channel that it was just the winter creeping in. The teen hated the winter, it was just so cold and then there was the snow... Carlos made a slight face at the thought of snow balling up in his horses hooves, and for a split second he wondered if it was possibly to create a heat packet like the 'Cozy Toes' you could buy for shoes to duct tape to the bottom of a horses hoof to keep the snow from packing in. A small grin formed on his face as he dismissed the idea, knowing that if anyone knew the outrageous things that often crossed his mind, he'd be thought of as insane, most likely.

The teen had to keep pushing Lacera's head aside, as she kept twisting around to nudge him with her nose. Carlos didn't reprimand her for doing so, he knew it was one of her quirks. The mare had a very loving personality and he did wonder if she could tell he really didn't need to be riding. He pushed the thought aside and placed a foot in the stirrup, about to step on into the saddle when the dappled mare's attentions turned off of him. Carlos glanced over his shoulder to see what had caught the mare's attention and prompty flushed a slight red in the face upon seeing the older man walking up. He slowly removed his booted foot from the stirrup and turned around, looping his arm through the braided reins from his mare's bridle.

Carlos heard a slight reprimand in the other man's voice and identified him as an instructor based on that and the fact that he looked older than a student. The teen shifted slightly, glancing up at the instructor then gazing at his hands as he heard the truth ringing in his voice. Yes, he probably should be in bed, but... "El senor," He said softly, shifting again. The teen knew he was caught, but... "I am... I..." He fell silent and flushed red again, embarassed and a little self concious. "I am not injured badly. Just bruised." He finally decided on a half-truth, as he really wanted to ride and didn't want to chance this guy, this instructor banning him from riding today. "My mas joven... littler mare, she threw me the other day." Again, the boy mentally cursed his lack of knowledge in the english language, as he knew that 'littler' wasn't what he'd wanted to say. "Not... littler." he corrected himself, "Younger."

[Bruce Ropata]

Bruce smiled at the mare, who had turned to look at him, although he felt guilty for disrupting the horse when the boy was trying to mount. He smiled warmly when the boy turned to acknowledge him.

He listened silently as the boy spoke. "Don't sweat it, mate." He replied with a chuckle. "I've been there too." There was nothing like teaching a youngster that she was supposed to herd the sheep and not either cavort with them or gallop off in the other direction if the fleecy quadrupeds decide to stand their ground.

The mounted game instructor gestured toward his own mount. "You don't mind if I ride Boss around in here, do you?" He asked. He knew that the stockhorse, although looking a little intimidating in his whole 17 hands, was as steady as a rock and no matter how much the wind seemed to rattle the building, he didn't move a muscle. Not only that, but the young teacher didn't feel right leaving this boy to side solo. "Oh, golly, where are my manners, I'm Mr Ropata. I teach mounted games."

[Carlos Rodriguez]

Carlos took in the smile the man offered him and relaxed a little. The instructor didn't seem upset or anything, which, to him, was a very good thing. He breathed a sigh of relief when the man let it go and nodded, giving him a small upturn of the lips as a response. "Thank you, el senor." He said, turning back to Lacera and asking her to back-up a step or two so that she was even with the mounting block.

The boy looked to the -large- horse standing where the other man had left him and studied the animal. Carlos liked any type of horse, no matter the size, or appearance, or build, or breed... though he couldn't decipher the different breds of horses as well as most people could, seeing as how his experience was only with the Lusitano breed and other Spanish breeds. "I do not mind, instructora Ro-Ropata." He switched out the Spanish 'sir' for 'instructor' as soon as the man introduced himself, though his face once again turned a faint red color when he had trouble pronouncing the man's last name.

Carlos turned back to his mare and stepped back up onto the mounting block, about to mount up when he realized he had neglected to introduce himself. He quickly spun back around, the momentum of his movement making him feel a little dizzy as his ribs protested the whirlwind. "Perdon," He said breathlessly, apologizing for his lack of manners and wincing as he wrapped one arm around his ribcage tightly. "I am Carlos."

The dark haired teen didn't grace the man with meeting his gaze as he mumbled something about riding and then stepped a foot into the stirrups, pausing as the grey mare shifted her weight, but when she made no movement other than that, the boy lightly swung up and settled in the saddle. He wanted dearly to ride without a helmet, but knew that it wouldn't be a good idea with the instructor in the arena as well. Carlos gently raised a hand to touch the bruises along the side of his face and flinched as they stung. He moved the helmet strap back as far as he could, away from the marks so it wouldn't rub and cause more pain, then picked up the reins and nudged the Lusitano mare with his heels, asking her to walk off along the far side of the arena.

[Bruce Ropata]

Bruce grinned as the boy said he didn't mind him also riding, and the man swung onto the gelding's back - though he wasn't wearing a helmet. and nudged the solid beast forward. Now, although Boss was pretty much bombproof (yup, if an actual bomb went off, the gelding would barely blink an eyelid), the horse was also pretty lazy if he could get away with it.

Bruce watched how Carlos moved while he was on his mare. "If you want my suggestion." He said. "I would warp those ribs of yours before your ride next time. You could just use polo wraps if you don't have an elastic bandage wrap." The man knew that he should tell Carlos to dismount and take himself to the nurse's office, but Bruce remembered all too well what it was like to be injured and still want to ride. "Seeing the nurse may not be such a bad idea though, even just for some pain killers." He left it at that and got his gelding walking around the arena at a nice forward pace before he asked the Stationbred cross to move into a ground covering trot.

[Carlos Rodriguez]

Carlos tensed slightly when the man spoke to him, but relaxed as soon as he realized that he wasn't being ordered off his mount. He shot the instructor a grateful look for being so understanding. Carlos knew that his own grandparents wouldn't have been so kind if he were back home. He'd be ordered off the horse and most likely grounded from riding for a month, during which he'd have to sneak rides in the middle of the nights. He'd done so several times.

The teen nudged Lacera into an animated trot, posting in rythem with the mare as they went around the edge of the arena before crossing diagonally once Carlos was sure he wouldn't be in the way of Mr. Ropata and his mount. It burned his side to post, but he gritted his teeth and continued on. Lacey was behaving beautifully now, her mind on the 'game' and blocking out the howling wind, and Carly didn't want to stop her and disrupt her focus. He was sure his face was paling as he continued to ride, and as they reached the end of the arena, he thought of cueing for a canter, but instead asked her to transition back to a walk, then a stop. Carlos leaned forwards over the mare's neck, wrapping his arm around his side once more as the burning painful sensation made him feel ill for a few moments. He closed his eyes tightly and took several shallow breaths before sitting back up shakily.

"Ma-mayhaps I will do so… later…" He said once he was able to breathe without feeling as though a crowbar was stuck in his side. He was still breathless and struggling to breathe in a way that didn't cause pain, but found it futile and so just tried to focus on ignoring the burn.