HOME | DD

Description

For the Stock Show Finals 2017 - Class List | Working Hunter

Featuring:
Horse: WRR Big Tank Hank
Riders Name: Jarin Jackson
Class: Working Hunter
Country: USA
Stock Show RESULTS!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jarin wiped the sweat from his brow. It was a hot summer day and they had just started their work. Jarin had taken his first western lesson on the mighty chestnut named Hank. That was two weeks ago and he had ridden him every day since. One lesson had turned into many more. Jarin was hooked into western. It was new and exciting and so many things to do: reining, cutting, pleasure, ranch, roping (he was not so good at that...) and he refused mounted shooting the moment Sydney offered to teach him. No thanks.
Sydney had already stripped his shirt off in the outdoor arena - he didn't care if the boss saw. It was damn hot even for a Texan. Hot was hot. But unlike Jarin, Sydney didn't really burn so it didn't matter if the sun beat down on his bronzed shoulders. He gave Jarin a grin and closed the gate of cattle behind him, "Not bad. You're getting quicker at pickin' the wily ones out. It's all about gettin' one that's energetic enough to make ya work but not so shit that it blows you over. I think ol' Hank earned his wash down."
Jarin nodded, looking at the cows moving about in the pen. He slapped a hand on Hank's neck that was drenched in sweat. He licked his lips and hung his head, sensing his work was done as Jarin dismounted from him. Jarin led him from the sun, into the cooler shade of the barn. He cross-tied Hank back in a wash rack and peeled his saddle off. He passed his glorious grey stallion, Abe, on the way to the tack room. He nickered and poked his head out of the stall to greet Jarin. Jarin frowned a little. He hadn't ridden him in a couple days...He got so preoccupied about learning western, he just sort of run short on hours to ride. He hadn't ridden Blue in a few days either! He was starting to really miss jumping and dressage.
Jarin was just about to grab for the hose back in the wash rack when he felt something cold smack his butt. He squealed like a little girl and jumped into Hank, about knocking himself unconscious on the massive horse. He turned around, hearing childish laughter. Sydney stood with the hose sprayer in hand. He looked awfully proud of himself, chuckling like a child, "Wet your pants?"
Jarin blushed and covered his soaked butt with his hands, "N-No!"
Sydney tossed Jarin the sprayer and went back to the wash rack beside Jarin, peeling the massive saddle off of Tango's back. Jarin smiled at Sydney's antics. He thought he was just a big scary dude but he really wasn't so bad so long as Jarin paid attention to what he was doing in the lesson - he might get a spur hurled at him if he didn't. Jarin started washing Hank down but the thoughts he had before came back to him. He sighed a little before pausing, "Sydney?"
Sydney was already washing Tango down, "Yea?"
Jarin resumed washing Hank, "Is there really nothing in western that's like...I dunno..."
"What? Like yer jumpin' and shit?"
"Well...yea!" Jarin was surprised Sydney knew what he was thinking about!
Sydney shut the water off and scraped it off Tango, "Well, actually, there are some sort of English classes if you can call 'em English. Hunter classes. Flat work and small fences. That's about it."
Jarin perked up, shutting his own water off, "Really!? There's English riding in western!?"
"Hey, hey, I said sort of. It ain't the same, that's for fuckin' sure."
Jarin smiled and popped his head into Sydney's wash rack, "Can I do that with Hank!? Maybe I'd be good at it since I used to jump! I mean, er, I still do! But, uh..."
Sydney stared at Jarin like he was the dumbest man he knew, "You want to ride...English...on my western horse...in what fuckin' world..."
Jarin blushed and retreated away, "If not, then never mind!" He didn't have a clue about the conversion of discipline on a horse. Maybe Hank wasn't allowed to compete English! Jarin raised a brow when he heard chuckling coming from Sydney. He hesitated but slowly poked his head around the wall again.
Sydney patted Jarin's head, "You know what? Sure. Go ahead and jump the fuckin' ox. You're right. I'm sure your experience will totally make a damn difference."
"Really!?" Jarin lit up like a bulb!
Sydney snorted, "Go for it. You'll understand soon enough why he's a western horse."
And that started Jarin's interest in pushing Hank to do just some little jumps. Unfortunately, more often than not...Hank would see the jump and read it was fencing from his reiner book of knowledge and try to stop immediately and as close as he could to the poles. Jarin ate a lot of neck and sand as Sydney cackled away in the background. Jarin was hardly making any progress other than what looked like a sliding stop and then a crawl/hop over the low poles. Graceful...elegant...are not words to describe this..."jumping". Still, Jarin wasn't quite ready to just give up on English riding. He did not tell Tristan of these attempts...
(874 word count)

Previous: Too Much For Your English Sensitivities | Next: Bitch In The Sheets
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grace and poise, ol' Hank. He's...really not meant for jumping...Maybe a ditch on the trail or a stray branch but actual jumps? Mmmmnnnnoooo. Love you Hank <3 Jarin tried lol Sydney did sort of warn him <--- nice guy Sydney.
I was up and down with this piece xD But it was nice to get outside again! Although I found myself wondering where the straight lines were!? I've been brainwashed, help.
Let's keep this plot rolling people! We've got fun things to get to!~ :''D

Jarin/Hank/Sydney/Abe/Blue/Art © Drasayer
Tristan Ennerstone © Saoradh

SAI/Photoshop CS6

Description

For the Stock Show Finals 2017 - Class List | Working Hunter

Featuring:
Horse: WRR Big Tank Hank
Riders Name: Jarin Jackson
Class: Working Hunter
Country: USA
Stock Show RESULTS!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jarin wiped the sweat from his brow. It was a hot summer day and they had just started their work. Jarin had taken his first western lesson on the mighty chestnut named Hank. That was two weeks ago and he had ridden him every day since. One lesson had turned into many more. Jarin was hooked into western. It was new and exciting and so many things to do: reining, cutting, pleasure, ranch, roping (he was not so good at that...) and he refused mounted shooting the moment Sydney offered to teach him. No thanks.
Sydney had already stripped his shirt off in the outdoor arena - he didn't care if the boss saw. It was damn hot even for a Texan. Hot was hot. But unlike Jarin, Sydney didn't really burn so it didn't matter if the sun beat down on his bronzed shoulders. He gave Jarin a grin and closed the gate of cattle behind him, "Not bad. You're getting quicker at pickin' the wily ones out. It's all about gettin' one that's energetic enough to make ya work but not so shit that it blows you over. I think ol' Hank earned his wash down."
Jarin nodded, looking at the cows moving about in the pen. He slapped a hand on Hank's neck that was drenched in sweat. He licked his lips and hung his head, sensing his work was done as Jarin dismounted from him. Jarin led him from the sun, into the cooler shade of the barn. He cross-tied Hank back in a wash rack and peeled his saddle off. He passed his glorious grey stallion, Abe, on the way to the tack room. He nickered and poked his head out of the stall to greet Jarin. Jarin frowned a little. He hadn't ridden him in a couple days...He got so preoccupied about learning western, he just sort of run short on hours to ride. He hadn't ridden Blue in a few days either! He was starting to really miss jumping and dressage.
Jarin was just about to grab for the hose back in the wash rack when he felt something cold smack his butt. He squealed like a little girl and jumped into Hank, about knocking himself unconscious on the massive horse. He turned around, hearing childish laughter. Sydney stood with the hose sprayer in hand. He looked awfully proud of himself, chuckling like a child, "Wet your pants?"
Jarin blushed and covered his soaked butt with his hands, "N-No!"
Sydney tossed Jarin the sprayer and went back to the wash rack beside Jarin, peeling the massive saddle off of Tango's back. Jarin smiled at Sydney's antics. He thought he was just a big scary dude but he really wasn't so bad so long as Jarin paid attention to what he was doing in the lesson - he might get a spur hurled at him if he didn't. Jarin started washing Hank down but the thoughts he had before came back to him. He sighed a little before pausing, "Sydney?"
Sydney was already washing Tango down, "Yea?"
Jarin resumed washing Hank, "Is there really nothing in western that's like...I dunno..."
"What? Like yer jumpin' and shit?"
"Well...yea!" Jarin was surprised Sydney knew what he was thinking about!
Sydney shut the water off and scraped it off Tango, "Well, actually, there are some sort of English classes if you can call 'em English. Hunter classes. Flat work and small fences. That's about it."
Jarin perked up, shutting his own water off, "Really!? There's English riding in western!?"
"Hey, hey, I said sort of. It ain't the same, that's for fuckin' sure."
Jarin smiled and popped his head into Sydney's wash rack, "Can I do that with Hank!? Maybe I'd be good at it since I used to jump! I mean, er, I still do! But, uh..."
Sydney stared at Jarin like he was the dumbest man he knew, "You want to ride...English...on my western horse...in what fuckin' world..."
Jarin blushed and retreated away, "If not, then never mind!" He didn't have a clue about the conversion of discipline on a horse. Maybe Hank wasn't allowed to compete English! Jarin raised a brow when he heard chuckling coming from Sydney. He hesitated but slowly poked his head around the wall again.
Sydney patted Jarin's head, "You know what? Sure. Go ahead and jump the fuckin' ox. You're right. I'm sure your experience will totally make a damn difference."
"Really!?" Jarin lit up like a bulb!
Sydney snorted, "Go for it. You'll understand soon enough why he's a western horse."
And that started Jarin's interest in pushing Hank to do just some little jumps. Unfortunately, more often than not...Hank would see the jump and read it was fencing from his reiner book of knowledge and try to stop immediately and as close as he could to the poles. Jarin ate a lot of neck and sand as Sydney cackled away in the background. Jarin was hardly making any progress other than what looked like a sliding stop and then a crawl/hop over the low poles. Graceful...elegant...are not words to describe this..."jumping". Still, Jarin wasn't quite ready to just give up on English riding. He did not tell Tristan of these attempts...
(874 word count)

Previous: Too Much For Your English Sensitivities | Next: Bitch In The Sheets
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grace and poise, ol' Hank. He's...really not meant for jumping...Maybe a ditch on the trail or a stray branch but actual jumps? Mmmmnnnnoooo. Love you Hank <3 Jarin tried lol Sydney did sort of warn him <--- nice guy Sydney.
I was up and down with this piece xD But it was nice to get outside again! Although I found myself wondering where the straight lines were!? I've been brainwashed, help.
Let's keep this plot rolling people! We've got fun things to get to!~ :''D

Jarin/Hank/Sydney/Abe/Blue/Art © Drasayer
Tristan Ennerstone © Saoradh

SAI/Photoshop CS6