#or full of hay man i think i dropped my brain somewhere a while ago | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dahliawolfe · 4 years ago

Text

Fang Shy

Bound pt 2

The Northman house was nothing short of extraordinary. It was tucked in the back lot of an empty cul de sac. It was sleek, black stone; cold silver; and glass. Eric pulls into the circular driveway and cuts the engine. “So, this is all yours?” She asks. “You live alone?”

He studies her quizzically. “Yes. I do not enjoy having houseguests.” She hums in acknowledgement and follows him to the front door. He swings it open to reveal an equally stunning inside. Full of large windows, bright wood floors, and sophisticated furniture.

“Don��t the windows pose a problem to your condition?” she finds herself asking.

“The basement is windowless. That is where I spend the day.”

“Ah. Gotcha. Well, I must say, this is a nice place.” He nods at the compliment and hold his hand out, gesturing toward the stairway.

“Come. I will show you to the master suite.”

…

The master suite, as it turns out, is a lavish room, big enough to house a California king comfortably, with room to spare. The bed is fitted with silver silk sheets and a deep onyx velvet comforter. Cool blue pillows are piled at the head of the bed. The charcoal grey of the walls contrasts with the white oak floors. There is a large master bathroom at the back, a walk in closet to the left, a balcony to the right, and a small lounge area on the back wall. Thais is in heaven. Never in her life has she been somewhere like this.

“You are welcome to change it to your tastes, of course,” Eric says, startling her. She must have been staring at the room for some time.

“No, this is really nice. But are you sure you want me to use it? I mean, I know you have your basement lair or whatever, but this seems a bit excessive to give to someone you don’t know.”

“This is your home now. I wish for you to have this room. If it is to your liking.” Thais nods and takes a seat on the bed, which melts around her. She’s pretty sure she lets out an obscene moan, because Eric’s eyes narrow, and he seems to inhale sharply.

“I know you probably have a few more hours left before you go to sleep for the ni…day, but I’m beat. And that jacuzzi tub in there is calling my name. Would it be alright if I took a bath and hit the hay?” Eric smiled indulgently.

“Of course. Enjoy yourself. I will be in my office just down the hall if you need anything.”

The water immediately relaxes all of her tense muscles, and she lets herself drift just to the edge of sleep before deciding to get out of the tub and dry herself off. She slides a beat up Led Zepplin shirt over her head and flips the covers back, swinging her legs under them before settling in.

Thais is mostly asleep when Eric comes into her room. Kisses her temple lightly, whispers something in a language she doesn’t know, pulls the covers higher over her and leaves the room. It’s the last thing she remembers before falling asleep.

Thais wakes up the next morning and makes her way downstairs, looking for the kitchen. She finally spots it at the back of the house and makes her way inside. On the black marble countertop is a note scrawled in elegant script. Her name is printed on the front. In the cream envelope, she finds a letter, and black credit card, and a set of keys.

“Thais, inside are my credit card, the keys to our home, and a spare set of keys to my car. Make yourself at home. I will see you at nightfall.

-Eric”

She stares down at the keys in her hand. Is he seriously letting her borrow his very nice, very expensive sportscar? Maybe she could get used to this.

The back garden boasts a beautiful pool and lounge area, and Thais plans to take full advantage of them both. She digs out the little black bikini she had stored in her bag months ago on a trip to LA and slides it on. She grabs a book, her cigarettes, and her phone and makes her way outside.

…

Thais has normally golden skin, but the early autumn rays are making it glow even more, and when she slides into the heated pool, she moans. She doesn’t remember the last time she was this comfortable. She’s nearly dozing against the edge of the pool when her phone rings. She lifts herself out of the water, snagging her towel and laying back on the lounger before answering. “Hello,” she says, laying her head back, pushing her sunshades down her nose.

“Thai. Are you alright?” It’s Sookie.

“Oh, hey, Sook. Yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Did Eric tell you that the meeting with the visiting sheriff is tonight?”

“Ummm…no? Why?”

“I have to go. It’s a long story, but I’ve got quite the connection to the supe community now.”

Thais chuckles. “I leave you alone for five minutes and you get yourself into a pickle. Ok, so what am I wearing?”

…

Thais walks in the front door just as the sun is making its descent. Shopping bags on one arm, iced coffee in the other hand. She’d agreed to meet Sookie in nearby Shreveport to do some shopping. She’d come away with a little more than she’d gone in search of, but she thinks she found an appropriate outfit for the night. A nude, scoop neck dress that hugged her curves and stopped just above her knees and a pair of sapphire peep toe pumps. She makes her way to her room to get ready, hoping to beat Eric before he could leave her behind.

…

“Hey, wait for me!” Thais exclaims, making her way to the front door, where Eric is trying to leave. He turns to look at her, his eyes widening slightly, and Thais’s brain is flooded with waves of lust from the invisible link connecting her mind to his.

“Did you need something, Thais?” he asks, his accent thickening.

“I just wanted to ride with you to the meeting.” He frowns.

“You are not going.”

“But I am.” She quickly held up her hand to stop his objection. “Listen, I can be an asset. I can tap into everyone’s thoughts, that new sheriff’s included. If there’s danger to anyone, I can say something. Eric, I’m not some wall flower that’s gonna sit back and let you put yourself in danger, when I can help you.”

His frown deepens. “Fine. But you will not leave my side.”

“Deal.”

…

Eric’s hand presses into the small of her back as he leads her inside. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” he states, a whisper to her ear.

“Thanks,” she replies, dipping her head shyly.

A large man greets them at the front door of the mansion where the meeting was to be held. He sneers at Eric, and Thais feels her hackles raise. She’s getting a bad feeling already, and the night hasn’t even begun.

…

The loud swears in Norse spilling from Eric’s mouth fill her ears, while his angry thoughts and emotions swim through her mind. He’s pissed. As he should be. The cocksure motherfucker new sheriff of shit mountain has just come in and made demands that Eric is unwilling to meet.

“Now, Eric. That’s not very neighborly of you. All I’m asking is for a little help to get started out right. And a stake in Fangtasia would be just the thing for that,” speaks the vamp, a snaky, teenage looking Brit, who keeps giving Thais leering smiles.

“Absolutely not! This is my territory, and Fangtasia is my club! How dare you threaten me!” Leopold, the new sheriff, had all but threatened to sick his mob on Eric if he didn’t comply with his wishes.

“Oh, my dear Eric, it wasn’t a threat. Think on it.” With that, Leopold stands. He motions to his guards. “Escort my company out, Daydric. Be especially careful with Miss Stackhouse and Miss Adrieux.”

The guard reaches for Thais’s hand, and she quickly swerves, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. The guy is a were, and Eric and Bill had been on edge all night because of it. Wolves and vampires did not go together, so the fact that Leopold had them as guards was disturbing. Thais is pleased at the grunt of pain the man emits when she forces his arm behind his back.

“I’ll thank you not to touch me, Daydric,” she hisses in his ear. Eric gets between them quickly.

“You touch her, and you die,” he warns simply, taking Thais’s hand and leading her out to the car.

…

The energy in the car on the way back to Eric’s house is electric. Thais has no doubt that he’s angry. She would be too. Leopold had all but waltzed in and aimed a killing blow at Eric. Thais had heard the new sheriff’s thoughts, and he planned to do much more than take Eric’s territory, club, and life. The things he had imagined doing to Thais, well, she’ll be having nightmares about that for months.

…

Thais stops just inside the front door to remove her heels. When she turns, Eric is studying her.

“Eric, are you alright?” she asks, laying a hand on his arm.

“I would never allow him to hurt you,” he swears quietly.

“I know,” she assures.

“He thought things of you, didn’t he? I could feel your discomfort?”

“I…” she doesn’t complete her answer, simply lets her hand drop and stares at the floor. Eric lifts her chin gently.

“You are protected.”

“Eric, before I came here…Well, I haven’t had an easy time of it. And I’ve faced some pretty fucked up shit, but Leopold, the things that he has in mind…He’s unstable. And honestly, if everyone comes out of this alive, we’ll all be lucky. Damaged, but lucky.”

“Sweetheart, he could rip the heart from my chest, and I would not stop until you were safe.” Thais studies his piercing eyes. His mind brushes hers, and it’s comforting and calming. She can only assume that he’s figured out how to project his feelings on to her, and she smiles. Because no one has ever taken the time to even attempt to learn to do that for her. When he leans down, she accepts his kiss gladly.

Eric quickly deepens the kiss, drawing her closer, a hand going to the back of her neck, cupping her and tugging her to him. Soon enough, his large hands go to the underside of her thighs, lifting her up. Eric pins her to the wall, holding her between his body and the cold plaster. One of his hands snakes into her panties, and she moans when his finger dips inside her.

“Fuck,” she breathes against his lips.

“I believe we will,” he teases, giving her a devilish smile. He pumps his long finger into her before adding a second. She whimpers into his neck. “Yes, you like that don’t you, Little One? Do you think I can make you come just from this?” And, hell yes, she thinks she can come from the delicious fingers in her pussy. And when he crooks one just right and hits her gspot, she wails, fingers roughly pulling at his jacket. “Limt kompis, work yourself against my fingers.” Thais throws her head back, roughly riding his fingers, even as he adds a third, she rolls her hips and slams down against the palm he has pressed to her clit. “Good girl. Now, come for me,” he softly demands. And lord help her, she does. She springs apart with a cry of his name. And she swears she blacks out for a second because the next thing she knows, her back is hitting the couch, and Eric is spearing her on his cock. She immediately orgasms again, still on the cusp of her first. And Eric isn’t gentle, but he’s very considerate, listening intently to her incoherent babbling to determine what works best for her. His kisses to her neck turn sharp, and she cries out and comes a final time as she explodes around him, drawing him in as closely as possible, feeling his satisfaction tickle her mind. He eases her through the last orgasm, before shoving roughly into her a few more times and coming himself, swearing in Norse as he does.

…

Thais sits on Eric’s lap, them both now naked, and gently runs her fingers over his cool skin. He lays gentle kisses on her forehead and crown ever now and then, letting his fingers glide over her spine. She smiles up at him, and he offers one of his own in return. And everything seems ok, at least for now.

“Sleep with me today?” he asks. She beams at him.

“I’d like that.” So, he lifts her and makes his way down stairs, laying her gently on his bed, before climbing in beside her and curling around her.

#trueblood #true blood fandom #eric northman #sookie stackhouse #vampires #Telepaths #southern vampire mysteries

5 notes · View notes

babbushka · 5 years ago

Text

Last Straw (6/12)

Newly married to your high school sweetheart Kylo Ren, the two of you move into Skywalker Ranch, a farm recently passed down after the death of Kylo’s grandfather. The place is charming, and the people seem friendly…but are they?

Content Warnings: Major character death, extreme violence, amputation, mentions of cannibalism

-------------

Your guilt gets the better of you in the end, and you look at Kylo for his opinion. It was his house too, and it was an area he was more familiar with. Your gut was screaming at you, telling you no, telling you to run, you have to run you have to flee you have to leave – but in the end, you’ve made up your mind.

“Okay.” You say, and you already are filled with regret with the way they smile at your decision. “But only in the barn, and just for the night. In the morning, we’ll call someone to come out and make sure you’re all okay.”

Brendol reaches out a hand for you to shake and you take it, only for a moment. You saw what he had done to Kylo’s hand, how there were still marks from his nails in Kylo’s palm.

“Oh thank you, (Y/N), thank you so much for your kindness.” Brendol said, so polite, too polite.

You go cold.

“We’re going to go to sleep now, I’m afraid there’s nothing in the barn.” Kylo says, an arm around your waist, as you reclaim your hand and tuck yourself against Kylo’s side, mind racing racing racing.

“Not to worry, hay is quite warming, thankfully.” Armitage says, although he glares when he says it.

You wonder how many barns he’s slept in, to know that.

“Alright.” You say, closing the door a little too forcefully, a little too quickly.

But once it’s shut you can hear from the other side of the wood, an all too satisfied,

“Sleep well.”

In the bedroom, you refuse to leave Kylo’s side. You are glued to him practically, on the mattress, under the covers. All those silly fears of monsters under the bed come rushing back from childhood, and you make sure your feet are fully tucked under the blankets.

You have a horrible, eerie feeling, that someone is going to grab you.

Kylo doesn’t seem as perturbed. He’s lying on his back and has you pulled against his chest, his hand carding through your hair, kissing the top of your head like nothing was wrong in the whole world.

“See? We did something nice for someone.” He says, pleased as punch.

Until.

Until you look up at him with afraid eyes, terrified eyes, until you say,

“I didn’t tell him my name.”

The hand in his your hair stops.

“What?” He asks, sitting upright slowly slowly slowly, until he’s against the headboard and you’re still buried up to your chin in covers.

“That man, Brendol. I didn’t tell him my name.” Your voice trembles, and you know this isn’t some random coincidence, this isn’t some happenstance.

This was planned.

And you feel like a moron for falling for it.

“Go check the drawer for me.” Kylo says quickly, as he starts rummaging through the bed-side table for something.

“Which?” You ask, reluctantly getting out of bed, tip-toeing across the floor in your robe to the dresser.

“The one with our underwear.” He says, finally finding what he was looking for, a little box of bullets, stock full.

“You stashed it here?” You ask, when you pull out the revolver that he had hidden under the socks.

He nods, and reaches his hand out for it, for you.

“Give it to me, I don’t want you have to get your hands dirty.” He says softly, and you sigh.

This wasn’t the first time he had done this, and you hate the resignation in your voice. You don’t give him the gun, you don’t want him to be alone in this. You don’t want him to have to be an attack dog anymore.

“Kylo do you think something is going to happen? Should we call the cops?” You ask, keeping the revolver in your own hands.

“I don’t know.” He says, scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know, but if something does fucking happen, I’m not going to leave us defenseless. Cops would take ten, fifteen minutes going top speed, which they won’t do since it’s dark.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have done something nice for someone.” You say, a lame attempt at humor, an attempt to try and take the edge off.

It doesn’t work.

You stay awake all night. Each hour that passes feels longer and longer, like time is perpetually stretching on and on. Neither of you can sleep, can even think about falling asleep. You both have your eyes and ears trained. You steal glances out the beautiful bay window, and Kylo keeps his hearing set on downstairs.

For a while, it seems like nothing is going to come. The clock strikes midnight, then one o’clock, then two.

But on the stroke of three o’clock, there’s a knock at the door, the same rap rap rap that had gotten you both out of the shower only just earlier that evening.

“Did you hear that?” You ask, and Kylo’s already got his mask on, his blank, merciless mask on, one that you thought, prayed, you’d never see again.

“It’s them.” Kylo nods, stands up and cracks the joints in his neck, in his spine. He lets you keep the revolver, but he goes to the closet and grabs his shotgun rifle, loads it up. You sigh, but he only gives you a hard look. “Get behind me, (Y/N) I’m not playing this game right now.”

You don’t argue with him, not now, not this time. You get behind him and walk down the hallway, carefully, slowly. You have the revolver and it’s ready to go the second he tells you to shoot, the absolute second he tells you to strike them down. You both avoid the squeaky stairs carefully, avoid the weakspots in the wood as you make your way down down down.

They’ve opened the door, the three of them. Somehow managed to get through the lock.

They’re backlit by the moon, their eerie figures are standing there, just standing. But they’re standing in the foyer, they’re through the door.

Trespassing.

“If you take one more step,” Kylo cocks the shotgun, “Inside my home.”

“You’ll what?” Armitage sneers.

For some reason, he’s standing in front of both his brother and their father. This surprises you, you would have thought Brendol would be front and center in the limelight. Maybe Armitage is a better killer, you think, more ruthless, more efficient. You swallow down bile hard.

“I’ll blow your fucking brains out.” Kylo replies, just as evenly.

Armitage scoffs, rolls his eyes at such a statement.

“You don’t have the – ”

But before Armitage can say whatever it was he was going to say, Kylo pulls the trigger, and does just that.

You’ve never seen it before, someone being killed. You’ve never witnessed a murder, not a real one. Not one that wasn’t pretend, on TV or in a movie somewhere. You didn’t realize how different it would be, how harrowing. You can’t scream, frozen in place, as the back of Armitage’s head is exploded across the doorframe, splattered onto Brendol and William.

“Don’t try me.” Kylo says, holding the shotgun level with the other two, aimed right at their heads too, right at their fucking faces.

“You’re going to pay for what you did to my son.” Brendol seethes, hisses and screams, screams and screams in agony as if it were his own, as if the pain were coming from his own mind.

You watch in horror as the man contorts and twists, as his spine snaps and breaks as he crouches down on all fours, a bear poised to attack. Behind him William is shaking, shivering, a horrible, disgusting noise coming from deep in his chest.

It is an awful clicking sound, like a thousand beetles pouring from hell, wings beating, legs rubbing together. It is horrible, and it is so loud – but then no, you think, it is not like beetles at all, it is like teeth, the skittering, the clacking, it is like mouthfuls and mouthfuls of teeth, freezing frigid cold.

“’Tidge,” He wails, voice high and loud, discordant, like a hundred voices all at once, all at the same time, “’Tidge no.”

And you frown, because even though he was cowering in fear from his brother only an hour ago, now he’s mourning the loss of him. You wonder what the fuck went wrong in this family, to have messed up these kids this badly.

“William, sick.” Brendol sets himself over Armitage’s body, protecting it, trying to salvage what he can.

Or…or maybe…maybe that isn’t what he’s doing, you think with growing horror, as Brendol’s tongue begins to lap up the gore and grime that’s splattered all over his forearms.

There’s not time to question it, because William, the shaking chattering clacking hissing whining crying thing, is bolting towards you, running, running at speeds which don’t make sense, even as he’s crying, as his hands are outstretched as if desperate to be saved.

Kylo fires and fires, until there’s no more in the shotgun, and you don’t think, you empty the revolver into William as he gets closer and closer.

The kid drops to the ground in agony, but to your absolute horror, gets back up, forces himself to get back up.

Brendol lunges then too, having licked himself clean, his hands at the very least. He strangles Kylo, catches him off guard where he was trying to swing punch after punch to William’s face.

“No!” You scream as Kylo and Brendol fight, as they wrestle to the ground, “Get your hands off of him! Get off him!”

William has set his sights on you instead, and before you know it, he’s jumped onto your chest, has crushed you to the ground, has knocked you out.

It’s dark, in your head.

Dark and cold. Very cold. There’s pain, burning and screaming through your veins. It’s the pain that wakes you up, the pain that makes you come back from the dark.

You don’t know, what’s happened. You don’t know what you missed. You’ve managed to make it back, all the way up to your room, somehow. Somehow alive. But you have a feeling, an awful, sick feeling, that this is it. This is the end for you, for Kylo.

You look down, and you let out a choked sob, for where your lower half should be, there’s nothing. There’s just nothing. They’ve sawed off your legs, you can’t even see your thighs, you can’t see. You scream, scream and scream and sob, the pain blinding. You try to move your legs but they’re not there.

They’re just not there.

Your eyes burn, but you can’t tell if it’s from the smoke that fills the air, or the tears, or both. You reach for Kylo’s hand and you cry all over again when there’s nothing there for you to grasp. They must have cut it off too. But the cuts are clean, like they did it with a cleaver, like they did it with care, like you were animals, livestock for slaughter.

“Kylo, fuck I’m so scared, I don’t – fuck I don’t want to die. I love you I don’t want to die.” You sob, aching and screaming, choking on smoke.

“We won’t, we won’t it’ll be okay, it’ll – fuck!” Kylo rolls over, missing his hand he still pulls himself up and rolls over, protects you from the rickety wooden beams of the house which come crashing down. “(Y/N)!”

“Kylo!” You try to kiss him, you try, but your mouth is still so pinched from sobbing that you can barely pucker your lips.

Everything all at once feels very far away, like you’re floating. You know the house is on fire, you know. You can feel the fire licking up your legs. You want to scream but, at the same time, you can’t open your mouth to make a sound.

Is this what it’s like? You don’t know. You don’t even know what this is, what what is like. Is this death, or is this dying?

Kylo is on the floor with you, on his back. He’s got his face turned towards yours and you wish you could tell him you loved him, wished you could tell him one last time.

With the world crashing down around you, with Brendol and his son feasting on your limbs back in the barn, you wonder what you did to deserve this, why you were being punished this way. Where did it all go wrong?

You don’t know.

But you can find out.

Go back to the beginning and make new choices, see where the night will take you.

Will you survive? Or suffer a fate more gruesome than you could possibly imagine?

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo x reader #kylo/reader #my writing #dead dove do not eat #last straw

33 notes · View notes

softspotforstars · 5 years ago

Text

Oh wow. I just realized I haven’t posted in over a month! For some reason I thought I posted back around when I dropped Joey off at the trainer, but that must’ve just been my recollections of an Instagram post or two. So if you follow me on there, you’re likely pretty up to date with my goings on, but for posterity, I’ll give some more details about things here.

Let’s start with Joey since I know most people are here for the horsey stuff. Hawaii later? Sounds good.

So, I took Joey to the trainer a couple weeks later than initially planned. He was originally supposed to go at the tail end of April, but it ended up being put off until the first week of May since Trainer (J) had two shows back to back and wasn’t going to be on hand to watch him settle in. Knowing Joey, I wasn’t terribly worried that he wouldn’t settle well with whoever was watching the barn, but I can understand J’s apprehension, so I was totally fine with two more weeks of Joey cuddles.

So, on May 2nd, I took a half day off work and went to the barn and found Joey laid flat out in the hay unconscious, and knowing him, likely snoring. (I wasn’t close enough to hear, but if you remember the video of his gelding, you know snoring is in his repertoire.)

Afternoon naps are the best.

Oh hi, mom.

Do I have to get up though?

I went on and did my evening barn chores so I wouldn’t have to do them that night when I got back without him, then hooked up to the trailer and got all the windows and vents opened for him while waiting for K to get there to ride along for moral support/trailer driving coaching. I’ve only pulled the trailer 4 times or so and never with one of my own horses on board, just S’s (thanks S for guinea pigging your horses?) 😂 The drive over was uneventful minus the fact that the last 10 miles of interstate driving included an absolute gully washing downpour. I joked that Joey’s entire face would be drenched when we got there.

A couple days before this, I got the grand idea to practice loading with Joey because I couldn’t remember if he’d been on my trailer. I knew he’d been on K’s stock type that has all the open sides and room, but thought my small, dark, two horse slant might prove more scary. What I didn’t consider was that I wouldn’t be able to get Joey to back OFF of the trailer. Being his typical fearless self, he followed me onto my dark little trailer with little hesitation and he stood quietly beside me as if we were just standing in the field chilling. Zero percent nervous, not even terribly curious about things really. Just in a trailer. No big deal. Cool. Except he was NOT feeling backing off. At first he was like, sure mom, backing, I know this game. Then he realized he’d have to let his back feet drop off into the oblivion and he very calmly told me no. For 30 minutes or so. No escalation, no further nerves about being on the trailer, just resignation to the fact that we now live in the horse trailer.

As I mentioned, my two horse slant is small. If I hadn’t have the rear tack expanded I might have had a better chance at convincing him to back off, and it wouldn’t have been so tight to let him turn around in the trailer, but I finally gave up, looped the lead rope around his neck and got off the trailer to let him figure out how to handle the situation. Questionable logic possibly, but I think he’s proven capable of rational thought, so I figured why not let him figure it out. So he glanced over his shoulder at me, contorted himself into a pretzel and turned around. He then looked at me quietly and waited for me to grab the lead rope and encourage him to step down.

Or rocket launch off. Naturally.

So when we pulled in at J’s, I’d already decided just to let him pretzel and turn again and ask J to put that on the list of things that Joey needs to learn if he thinks he isn’t ready to ride and needs something else ground work wise to work on in the meantime. J said that the first couple of weeks he was there would be focused on ground work and that he would teach him how to back. I replied that he knows how to back, but the off of a trailer part was the crucial bit of the sentence and he just reiterated that he’d get a lot of groundwork first. Sounds good to me.

So, the interesting thing about working with a new trainer is that they have no idea of the owner or horse’s abilities at drop off. Not that I’m a seasoned pro or that Joey is the epitome of a cultured two year old, but honestly between my half ass effort and Joey’s general trainability, we really haven’t done half bad. But, since J didn’t know either of us from Adam, I think it’s safe to say that he probably proceeded with caution since he knows so little about us. So sure, by all means, teach my baby how to back. 😉

A couple days before he left-hand grazing the driveway with Cheddar.

After the weekend, I messaged J to check in and asked how Joey was doing, to which I got a “doing good and eating fine” message back. I’ve only known Joey not to eat once and that was when he had the infection/ran the super high fever after his castration, so yeah, I’d hope he’s eating. I had already determined that J was a man of few words, so I didn’t take it personally and went to Hawaii eager to return and see how groundwork was going on the 17th. On the 10th, eight days after I dropped Joey off, I received a short video clip that showed Joey trotting around the indoor with J aboard. He was low headed and quiet on a loose rein and looked more balanced than I’ve seen a lot of horses after 30 days, much less in this short of an amount of time.

I’d be lying if I said that seeing my kiddo going so well didn’t hit me right in the feels. I was a tiny bit sad that I’m missing a lot of his training, but I also know that that is just part of having a horse in full time training, even though I’m far from used to this scenario. Most of my emotion was sheer pride. I’ve always been the horsey friend with the least training skills, so to see my baby moving ahead of schedule after spending 99% of his formative time with me and me alone was validating. I give 90% of the credit for his trainability to damn good genetics, but that other 10% was me…doing something right? I spent the rest of Friday in Hawaii on a high. There’s nothing like being on a dream vacation and getting SO excited about what you have waiting on you at home.

So, after a week in Hawaii, I arrived back in Virginia and made plans to go see Joey first thing the next morning. I walked in the barn to see him tied and he watched me very closely. J was on another horse in the outdoor so I scratched on Joey for a few minutes (and teared up a tinyyyy bit to be honest…) before going out to say hi to J. Joey seemed 100% at home and like I’d just walked out of the barn five minutes before, not two weeks ago.

After finishing up with the other horse, J tacked Joey up casually like you would a broke trail horse and lunged him a few circles at all gaits in each direction before bridling him and mounting. Honestly I felt like I was watching a smaller version of Paige because he stood quietly while J mounted and just had the same general demeanor that I’m used to with Paige. He walked him around and flexed his neck a couple of times before reaching back and fooling with the saddle bags on the back of the saddle, making noise with the velcro on them numerous times while Joey just walked along unbothered by it all.

I had told J that Joey was laid back when I first met him then again when I dropped him off and had also said that he has a lot more whoa than go. J countered that several do until stalled and put on the alfalfa, then they get a little hot until they settle in. So I was pleased to hear that being stalled and on alfalfa hasn’t changed his disposition at all. J stated that if he keeps the same attitude as he has currently that Joey is the type of horse that he likes to train and that he’d much rather have one that quits unless you make him work vs. one that runs hot and has to be ridden down to get to a point of being trainable. I’m 100% not the type of rider who wants/likes a hot horse, so I agreed that I’d prefer Joey stay lazy as well since that’s what I’m used to with his mother. Willing to work if you ask, but otherwise willing to chill. I bred for that brain first, conformation and movement second, and color third.

This is one of the reasons I’m happy to have Joey in full training somewhere. A few friends have quipped that Joey is so easy I could’ve started him myself, which is debatable. I can see their point in that Joey is so easy, but by sending him to a professional I keep his willingness to quit from becoming a insistence to quit. CoughcoughRobin. I know where my strengths lie and training riding horses who don’t have holes in their training is far from one of them.

Anyway, after watching Joey walk and trot around the indoor, J kissed and Joey immediately bopped up into a little rolling canter so quietly that it surprised me. I didn’t even know if he was loping him yet at all so to see him effortlessly step into the lope made me grin. The balance and body control that Joey has already after two weeks in training is something I keep being surprised by. He’s always been this derpy little baby in my head, so to see him capable of something athletic looking for his stage of training made me happy. J quipped that he was going to start riding him in spurs the next week (which is now I guess) so that he can show Joey that he has faster gears than he’s currently volunteering. He said that everything up to this point has been about forward movement with steering and brakes, but I can see why he wants to use the spurs because even maintaining what I call Joey’s “lah-te-dah” trot and rolling canter is taking some pretty dramatic pony kicks. Naturally this doesn’t surprise me at all after teaching him how to go on the longe line as the gaits he’s given me have always defaulted to what is easiest. So I guess this week Joey is learning about how to adjust his speed and stride length now that J feels like he’s ready to accept spurs.

After demonstrating Joey both ways at all three gaits, J dropped the reins and grinned and said, “not half bad for two weeks.” I heartily agreed. I’d told J previously that Joey’s well being, mentally and physically, ranked over rushing him into things, so it was reassuring to see how easily things seem to be going and how comfortably Joey is adapting to working life. J again mentioned that he likes that Joey isn’t reactive or hot because that allows him to gradually increase the length of his workouts with gaining fitness in mind while still being able to teach him something with each ride. While I agree with the old adage that wet saddle pads make broke horses, it’s nice to see a trainer realize that it isn’t necessary to work one into the ground past their point of physical ability. Joey left his workout looking alert and engaged without looking warm or overworked.

Immediately after being ridden.

When I initially Talked to J about Joey I told him that I was hoping to eventually show in the ranch events at APHA shows and that my long term big goal was to ride him and look the part at the APHA World Show. When I told J that in January, he gave me a little spiel about how much training goes into a horse showing at that level and what qualities a horse has to have to be competitive in the ranch classes. This information wasn’t new to me, but once again, J didn’t know me or my horse from Adam, so I think he was taking my goals with a grain of salt. I haven’t brought anything competitive up again since that conversation, opting instead to let Joey demonstrate whatever skills he has to J over the course of time and let J make his own opinions about Joey’s possible future. I realized my goals might not be terribly far fetched when after mounting Joey and starting to walk circles, J looked at me and asked when and where the APHA World Show is held. I told him and he went on to ask me several questions about Paige and Tanner and trying to get a better idea of Joey’s breeding, so I think the wheels are definitely turning now that Joey has demonstrated that he’s more than a pretty colored gelding.

What do you mean I have to be more than pretty?

J has a show this coming weekend, so I’ll be going another two weeks without seeing the kiddo. Not that I can’t go down there on the week nights, but at this point I’m not the person that needs to be riding him, so I can make better use of my time by getting stuff done at the house and farm on week night evenings instead of driving over and watching Joey. It’s fun to see the progress in two week intervals honestly. Based on what J had said, I set my expectations low for the first two weeks and was more than pleasantly surprised to see Joey at the point that he’s at. Until then I’ll just keep watching the videos from Friday on a loop…makes sense, right? 😉

Baby Riding Horse Oh wow. I just realized I haven't posted in over a month! For some reason I thought I posted back around when I dropped Joey off at the trainer, but that must've just been my recollections of an Instagram post or two.

0 notes