The Catalyst (Bizz, private lesson)

[houndish]

Cash was trying to keep up a lope on Tat. She didn't want to cooperate, and it was probably the most uncomfortable thing he had ever tried to ride. Ever. He could feel how off her leads were, but at the very least, it was a lope. He turned a circle, taking up the half of the ring farthest from the gate. The boy nearly came unseated, not used to having such a small saddle beneath him. It was a Wintec, but had passed through many hands over time. There was a pink saddle pad beneath it, left over from when his sister had tried her hand at riding-- two lessons and a fall before deciding she hated it.

Cash made a steep stop, leaning backwards and putting his feet out in front of him. It was a nice sliding stop, but not so nice in a saddle this... short. The boy flicked his bangs from out of his eyes, not used to the chin strap in his way. That was what wearing a helmet did to you, he supposed. Still, this one was something he was more comfortable with, a western show helmet that looked like a cowboy hat. He was out of his element with the most uncomfortable pair of pants he had ever worn. Ever. These were worse than skinny jeans, and he didn't wear those either. They wouldn't go over his boots, not by any stretch of the imagination. His stirrups were at a length that seemed normal to the western rider, knee hanging loose.

Tat slowed to what could have been a posting trot, but the western boy sat it easily. His spurs jingled at the heels of his boots as his voice carried the strong notes of a Linkin Park song he had heard on the radio while he got dressed that morning. It was some simple warm up routines, easy bits of reining patterns he had picked up over the years. It was all in waiting for his lesson to begin, all in trying to quell the fact that he was nervous, and keeping it from his mare.
Outfit? Hell Yes!

[bizz]

Henry walked into the ring expecting it to be empty-- he was sorely mistaken. A look of pure surprise planted itself across his features as he walked into the ring. He left the gate open behind him, to dazed to care. He walked to the center quietly, still taking in the mismatched singing cowboy all dressed up in english tack. He let out a astonished whistle as he looked down at his clipboard. As the whistle ended his corgi darted into the ring, galloping awkwardly on short legs. The man lifted the sheet checking his schedule, making sure that this was really his new student.

"Cash?"

He shot the name out, half way wishing that it wasn't the boy on the horse. Of course Henry knew it was his rider, placed awkwardly on a pony that was made to fit western tack.

"Get off the horse, and walk over to me."

He tried not to sound to demanding, his voice forced to be steady as he also tried to hide his laughter. He started to go over a check list of things he would need to check and change. The saddle's tree, the size of the pad, the boy's hair, the girth, the placement of the tack, the stirrups, the boots, the spurs, the helmet... the list went on and on. He looked down at the dog, who was rolling around on her back, happily getting dirty.

"What are we going to do with him, Speedbump?"

The corgi went on, oblivious to her owner's dismay. The man just shook his head, and went to meet the dismounted rider half way. His clipboard tucked at his side and his other hand extended for a handshake.

"I'm Henry, Henry Williams. Mr. Henry"

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[houndish]

His eyes fell on the older gentleman that had reached the ring. With the intonement of his name, he slowed the mare to a slow jog, getting her head back down, pulling her nose into a perfect western headset. Both reins were in one of his hands, rope hanging in his right hand on his thigh, where it was supposed to be. “Yes sir!” His barked, jogging the mare until the second he was told to swing down. It was a good downward transition, one of the best he had gotten from her every time. First his right foot kicked free of the awfully narrow stirrup, the way it fit his square toed cowboy boot starting to be a pain in the ass. His strong upper body held him up on the saddle while he kicked his left foot free before sliding to the ground.

Rescuing his reins from the high headed mare and taking them in his right hand, the young man strode to his new teacher. The boy had jingling spurs at the heels of his boots, the luck in them was something he would always believe in.

“He’s cute. Actually, um, would you mind if Misty hung out. She’s friendly, I just want to keep an eye on her.” His eyes flicked to the Black Mountain Cur that lay with her head on her paws in one of the corners of the ring. The corgi was adorable, a perky little animal.

Cash found his own hand extend, clasp the other man’s in a firm shake. With his other hand, he unclasped the chin strap on the helmet, shaking his hair around it. He hated riding with a helmet, made him feel restricted and uncomfortable. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn a more uncomfortable pair of pants in my life, by the way, sir.” Cash cringed a little, trying to adjust them to be more comfortable to no avail.

[bizz]

Mr. Henry watched the boy dismount, a hidden grimace lacing his features as his list of changes began to come to an end. From his list he went over what the boy would need, and what he had on hand with him at the moment. He knew that he had riding boots in his tack trunk-- and simply changing that about the rider would make everything a whole lot more appealing. He was brought back from mentally seeking out objects when Cash began to ask about his dog staying in the ring.

"As long as she doesn't start trouble"

He finished the handshake, then went to examine the mare. She was a well built little quarter horse, his hind end filled out just like a quarter horses ought to be. Unfortunately the new experience of english riding style wasn't the best one the mare was having.
First Henry went to the mare's bridle, he readjusted it so that it fit more snugly then looked at it bit. Now Henry didn't know the mare, but he imagined that it was a little to severe for a horse that was just learning english and a rider that might be more dependent on his hands since western was his first discipline. Then he went to the saddle. One look at it and Henry knew that it was sitting all wrong, pinching the mare's shoulders and most likely causing some of her unhappiness. With in two seconds he had it off and into Cash's arms.

"We've got a lot of work."

He laughed out the words, then turned towards the gate. Hands on his hips he tried to decide what to grab first.

"Wait here, I'll be right back."

In a matter of minutes Mr. Henry was back with three saddles, a new pad, his tall boots, and a snaffle. He set the saddles down on the gate, then walked out to meet Cash. He took the saddle from the boy and gave him the boots.

"Now these are my boots--" his voice holding a warning tone "-- you can ride in them until you get your own."

Next he went and put the boy's wintec down and returned with a fresh white pad and an ovation saddle from the gate. He pulled the pink peace pad off the horse's back and sat the white close contact pad and saddle down. He looked at it a second, and pulled the pad up into the pommel. His hands went under the flaps and around the back, making sure that it fit properly.

"Alright, put the girth on."

He was satisfied with the saddle fit, and the way his new rider looked. The snaffle he had grabbed twirled around his index finger.

"We can ride in the bit you have on her to see what it's like, but we might have to change it. Fit your stirrups and mount up."

He watched his new charge with his hands crossed over his chest. Henry was still looking for something to fit but he knew he would have to wait and see.

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