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Description

AQHR Rodeo 21'

Horse’s Name: WRR Hatboy Slim
Handler/Rider’s Name: Sydney Brannon
Class Entered: Cutting
Link to any entry from previous shows considered: n/a
Placed: Second

AQHR Rodeo 21' - Results

Follows after:

(starts as a flashback)
Sydney let the reins rest against the stud’s crimson neck. Under the heat of the sun, it twinkled a slight golden hue. This was just one of the three studs he hand selected and raised from colts with the intentions of making a good breeding line out of them. They all shared a sire with unbelievable proportions for a stock horse: a giant. Crossed with dams of equal disposition physically and mentally, producing these large, talented and versatile studs. Slim was the more nimble of the three, making him more useful around the cattle. He was slow on his takeoffs but could wheel around on a dime with a heavy anchor for a hind end.
He let the stud take a moment to collect his breath as the calf he was practicing on bucked and bolted for the rest of the herd. He glanced up, seeing a dusty car coming down the long drive of the ranch. Krissa was coming home already? He glanced up to the sky to see where the sun was. He hadn’t realized so much time had passed already. He slapped Slim on the neck and stepped off the tall stallion. May as well call it a day there.
He found her sitting at the kitchen table with her stacks of papers from school. He grinned and grabbed the back of her chair, pulling it back to get a scare out of her. Krissa squealed and nearly dropped everything in her hands. “Sydney Brannon!”
He liked it when she would swear at him and curse him into oblivion in Spanish. As if he’d ever change. “Hey, Princess.” And then she would smile again, after calling him a few more names. And then he would slide those papers out of the way. She would tell him how much a nuisance he was being. He would set his hat to the side and unbutton his shirt, she would grin as she leaned in closer, and she’d call him a few more names. But he only had one name for her; his Princess. She was demanding of him but he didn’t mind working hard for her. It was all he ever knew in life. Hard work and results.
But Krissa wasn’t seeing the same results he was. “Have you thought about that other job any? I heard your boss say she was really needing someone like you at that new facility of theirs.”
“The buildin’ is new,” Sydney clarified. “The business ain’t.”
“A new western facility.”
“A new barn.” Sydney frowned. “Why you want me to pay any mind to that? I ain’t takin’ it. Too far.”
Krissa sighed, slumping over, “I just think you should consider the opportunity. You have those horses of yours but you aren’t doing anything with them,” she gestured in the direction of the barn.
Sydney’s frown deepened. “They're still green. Whaddya want me to do? Make a fuckin’-” he grumbled, rubbing his face for losing his composure around a woman. “They’re on track.”
“Soooo, perfect for a new facility starting a branch that could use some startups and a damn good trainer,” Krissa pushed on. “Syd, I think you need to look outside of the box. You’re so stuck here in Texas like it’s the only place on Earth to be. Just give it a shot. Try it. You have nothing to lose.”

Sydney never did believe her. He never did believe he had nothing to lose by stepping foot off that ranch of his. He was skeptical from day one. He didn’t try to make friendly with anyone there. Jennie talked a good game on the new facilities and the opportunities that would come with it. She was really trying to make a good case why he should give it a shot. She was more than willing to double his pay. Double and a half if she really had to. This operation needed a reliable trainer as an anchor if it was going to take off. This was a market she had been trying to tap into for years now.

That was the day he unknowingly drove his shovel into the ground to rip the first heap of dirt from what would eventually become his grave.

He was beginning to fully understand why RidgeRunner needed a trainer now. He could see from a mile away that there was a horse frozen in its tracks about to explode like a stick of dynamite. It was a tight sonuva bitch, practically vibrating in place, staring at the dumb kid in front of it. Sydney shook his head, slinging his saddle over his shoulder, watching the shit show as he came closer. He wasn’t the kind of guy to butt in on someone’s “training” even if it was god-awful. The kid’s body language screamed scared and the horse’s demeanor reflected that.
He heard someone sneeze from the other end of the arena and it all blew apart just as fast. He was just going to keep walking on by as the horse spooked and bolted. But…Sydney stopped. Watching this buffoon… with arms wide open… catch the charging horse by the neck, swing a leg madly, twist himself with enough force and… land on top of the horse’s back… Just to get bucked off anyway.
What the actual fuck?
Normally, he wanted nothing to do with other people but this was too funny to pass up, “Hey, buddy. That's one rank sunova’ bitch you've got there. Maybe my little niece can come break him out for ya after she gets out of kindergarten.” Sydney actually laughed a little. This kid was ballsy!
And he failed to acknowledge the other man in all of the chaos. One that didn’t take kindly to being ignored or being out-talled, for that matter. “Hello there,” Tristan said dryly, his voice just a little bit cold, drawing himself up to his full height, looking less than impressed, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking an eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with rather blatant distaste. “Well, whatever you just said, I’m not sure it was overly useful to his teaching… Jarin , get up, come on, stop being a wuss.” Tristan, after all, wasn’t about to let some hick American push in on his lesson after all. Jarin was an English rider. He was not about to let some guy offer him an easy way out.
Sydney swung around like he had just noticed Tristan there. He gave him a once over decided point blank that he wasn't a threat. Another English rider with a stick up their ass. He smiled but it didn't look friendly, “Oh, sorry fella. Didn't realize he was your lil' Princess.”
“He is, after all, only new. Then again, so are you to this stable from what I gather. I’m Tristan Ennerstone, Olympic Dressage and Eventing Grand Prix rider… and you are?” Tristan’s tone gave the impression that he honestly couldn’t care less. Just another western rider coming along thinking they know everything because they can ride a horse in what was effectively a high chair of a saddle.
Sydney laughed at Tristan’s attempt to flex on him. He could whoop his ass and never set his saddle down. He didn’t owe him a damn thing in response. “Mhm. Well, you ladies enjoy yourself. Wouldn't want to mess up your shit show.” He stepped past Tristan and clearly didn't make enough room when he walked by and let Tristan have a good shove with the hefty saddle.
That had planted the seed. That foolish beckoning of an immature man. His pride got the best of him. Just knowing his presence puckered some pompous rich dude’s asshole made it all the better to keep coming back. And then to drag his dumb student into western riding to “taint” him was the cherry on top.

It shouldn’t take a stretch of the imagination to fill in the blanks between. People change. Distance creates holes. Holes to be filled. Filled by choices. Choices that can’t be taken back.
Krissa wasn’t sick of Texas. She was sick of being trapped. Sydney was her high school sweetheart. She wanted to know something different. She pushed him. Pushed him away to create a hole for herself. She wanted to fill a need for adventure. Sydney was never going to be anything but the face of that ranch. He was starting to settle in and stay longer and longer. She had freedom like she had never known before!
Until the choice came that she couldn’t take back.
She thought she could just go back. Tell him she was pregnant. That would get him to come back from that job in Missouri. She could have her old life back. It wasn’t as fun but it would be stable and secure. He’d never have to know it wasn’t his. She never counted on him figuring it out. He was always the dumb guy in school. What a time to finally get a good grade in math.

(this is the present)
Distance creates holes. Holes to be filled. Filled by choices. Choices that can’t be taken back. Sydney was staring down the depth of his hole. The choices he had made… marrying Krissa, buying his ranch, taking the job, training Jarin, not confronting Krissa right away about her cheating on him, cheating on her with Jarin, not telling Jarin about her, not telling Jarin about anything, hurting Jarin, taking it all out on Jarin, forcing Jarin to take the brunt of his damn choices…
He felt a different kind of sting in his pride now; if it could still be called pride. Sydney saw that horse from the very first day: Arthur. One of Jarin’s first horses. Sydney had put a lot of miles on that horse from back then all the way to the present. To see him being led to the Dressage arena with an English saddle on his back and Jarin walking beside Tristan… Sydney scowled, tightening the girth on Slim.
There was nothing good about this place. He should have never left Texas.
His eyes trailed back to Jarin, making his scowl loosen to a soft frown.
There was only one exception.

(1698 wordcount)
whoops, a little long, my bad~

Previous: Home is Where The Battlefield Is | Next: Used to be Important

Aaaaaand one more for the flashback pile~
I had planned on three entries for the three hat pons but that ain't happening xD Not with the deadline in a day lolol nope.
So I tried my best to kind of wrap up the flashback, kind of supply an explanation of how this all came to be from Sydney's point of view. I've spent soooo long purposefully hiding his past, the reasoning behind his behavior and personality and such~ It's kind of cathartic to be able to dig up super old pieces of text and be like "See? This is why he was nice in the beginning. And see? This is why his mood started to dip and why he was so snappy at times."
It doesn't excuse his behavior. Just paints the picture.

And I dunno if I ever did fully include this bit where Tristan and Jarin meet Sydney for the first time! This was a treasure to dig up from yeeeeeeaaaaars ago! It's taken me since 2017 to get this far xD And I've still got so much more to get through~ But I love this journey. My characters are a mess but they are my mess <33
(And Tristan <3)

Sydney/Slim/Krissa/Jarin/Arthur/Art © Drasayer
Tristan/RP Words © Saoradh
No specific refs used for cowpoke/cowpony/texas vibin' lands

Procreate/Photoshop CS6

Description

AQHR Rodeo 21'

Horse’s Name: WRR Hatboy Slim
Handler/Rider’s Name: Sydney Brannon
Class Entered: Cutting
Link to any entry from previous shows considered: n/a
Placed: Second

AQHR Rodeo 21' - Results

Follows after:

(starts as a flashback)
Sydney let the reins rest against the stud’s crimson neck. Under the heat of the sun, it twinkled a slight golden hue. This was just one of the three studs he hand selected and raised from colts with the intentions of making a good breeding line out of them. They all shared a sire with unbelievable proportions for a stock horse: a giant. Crossed with dams of equal disposition physically and mentally, producing these large, talented and versatile studs. Slim was the more nimble of the three, making him more useful around the cattle. He was slow on his takeoffs but could wheel around on a dime with a heavy anchor for a hind end.
He let the stud take a moment to collect his breath as the calf he was practicing on bucked and bolted for the rest of the herd. He glanced up, seeing a dusty car coming down the long drive of the ranch. Krissa was coming home already? He glanced up to the sky to see where the sun was. He hadn’t realized so much time had passed already. He slapped Slim on the neck and stepped off the tall stallion. May as well call it a day there.
He found her sitting at the kitchen table with her stacks of papers from school. He grinned and grabbed the back of her chair, pulling it back to get a scare out of her. Krissa squealed and nearly dropped everything in her hands. “Sydney Brannon!”
He liked it when she would swear at him and curse him into oblivion in Spanish. As if he’d ever change. “Hey, Princess.” And then she would smile again, after calling him a few more names. And then he would slide those papers out of the way. She would tell him how much a nuisance he was being. He would set his hat to the side and unbutton his shirt, she would grin as she leaned in closer, and she’d call him a few more names. But he only had one name for her; his Princess. She was demanding of him but he didn’t mind working hard for her. It was all he ever knew in life. Hard work and results.
But Krissa wasn’t seeing the same results he was. “Have you thought about that other job any? I heard your boss say she was really needing someone like you at that new facility of theirs.”
“The buildin’ is new,” Sydney clarified. “The business ain’t.”
“A new western facility.”
“A new barn.” Sydney frowned. “Why you want me to pay any mind to that? I ain’t takin’ it. Too far.”
Krissa sighed, slumping over, “I just think you should consider the opportunity. You have those horses of yours but you aren’t doing anything with them,” she gestured in the direction of the barn.
Sydney’s frown deepened. “They're still green. Whaddya want me to do? Make a fuckin’-” he grumbled, rubbing his face for losing his composure around a woman. “They’re on track.”
“Soooo, perfect for a new facility starting a branch that could use some startups and a damn good trainer,” Krissa pushed on. “Syd, I think you need to look outside of the box. You’re so stuck here in Texas like it’s the only place on Earth to be. Just give it a shot. Try it. You have nothing to lose.”

Sydney never did believe her. He never did believe he had nothing to lose by stepping foot off that ranch of his. He was skeptical from day one. He didn’t try to make friendly with anyone there. Jennie talked a good game on the new facilities and the opportunities that would come with it. She was really trying to make a good case why he should give it a shot. She was more than willing to double his pay. Double and a half if she really had to. This operation needed a reliable trainer as an anchor if it was going to take off. This was a market she had been trying to tap into for years now.

That was the day he unknowingly drove his shovel into the ground to rip the first heap of dirt from what would eventually become his grave.

He was beginning to fully understand why RidgeRunner needed a trainer now. He could see from a mile away that there was a horse frozen in its tracks about to explode like a stick of dynamite. It was a tight sonuva bitch, practically vibrating in place, staring at the dumb kid in front of it. Sydney shook his head, slinging his saddle over his shoulder, watching the shit show as he came closer. He wasn’t the kind of guy to butt in on someone’s “training” even if it was god-awful. The kid’s body language screamed scared and the horse’s demeanor reflected that.
He heard someone sneeze from the other end of the arena and it all blew apart just as fast. He was just going to keep walking on by as the horse spooked and bolted. But…Sydney stopped. Watching this buffoon… with arms wide open… catch the charging horse by the neck, swing a leg madly, twist himself with enough force and… land on top of the horse’s back… Just to get bucked off anyway.
What the actual fuck?
Normally, he wanted nothing to do with other people but this was too funny to pass up, “Hey, buddy. That's one rank sunova’ bitch you've got there. Maybe my little niece can come break him out for ya after she gets out of kindergarten.” Sydney actually laughed a little. This kid was ballsy!
And he failed to acknowledge the other man in all of the chaos. One that didn’t take kindly to being ignored or being out-talled, for that matter. “Hello there,” Tristan said dryly, his voice just a little bit cold, drawing himself up to his full height, looking less than impressed, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking an eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with rather blatant distaste. “Well, whatever you just said, I’m not sure it was overly useful to his teaching… Jarin , get up, come on, stop being a wuss.” Tristan, after all, wasn’t about to let some hick American push in on his lesson after all. Jarin was an English rider. He was not about to let some guy offer him an easy way out.
Sydney swung around like he had just noticed Tristan there. He gave him a once over decided point blank that he wasn't a threat. Another English rider with a stick up their ass. He smiled but it didn't look friendly, “Oh, sorry fella. Didn't realize he was your lil' Princess.”
“He is, after all, only new. Then again, so are you to this stable from what I gather. I’m Tristan Ennerstone, Olympic Dressage and Eventing Grand Prix rider… and you are?” Tristan’s tone gave the impression that he honestly couldn’t care less. Just another western rider coming along thinking they know everything because they can ride a horse in what was effectively a high chair of a saddle.
Sydney laughed at Tristan’s attempt to flex on him. He could whoop his ass and never set his saddle down. He didn’t owe him a damn thing in response. “Mhm. Well, you ladies enjoy yourself. Wouldn't want to mess up your shit show.” He stepped past Tristan and clearly didn't make enough room when he walked by and let Tristan have a good shove with the hefty saddle.
That had planted the seed. That foolish beckoning of an immature man. His pride got the best of him. Just knowing his presence puckered some pompous rich dude’s asshole made it all the better to keep coming back. And then to drag his dumb student into western riding to “taint” him was the cherry on top.

It shouldn’t take a stretch of the imagination to fill in the blanks between. People change. Distance creates holes. Holes to be filled. Filled by choices. Choices that can’t be taken back.
Krissa wasn’t sick of Texas. She was sick of being trapped. Sydney was her high school sweetheart. She wanted to know something different. She pushed him. Pushed him away to create a hole for herself. She wanted to fill a need for adventure. Sydney was never going to be anything but the face of that ranch. He was starting to settle in and stay longer and longer. She had freedom like she had never known before!
Until the choice came that she couldn’t take back.
She thought she could just go back. Tell him she was pregnant. That would get him to come back from that job in Missouri. She could have her old life back. It wasn’t as fun but it would be stable and secure. He’d never have to know it wasn’t his. She never counted on him figuring it out. He was always the dumb guy in school. What a time to finally get a good grade in math.

(this is the present)
Distance creates holes. Holes to be filled. Filled by choices. Choices that can’t be taken back. Sydney was staring down the depth of his hole. The choices he had made… marrying Krissa, buying his ranch, taking the job, training Jarin, not confronting Krissa right away about her cheating on him, cheating on her with Jarin, not telling Jarin about her, not telling Jarin about anything, hurting Jarin, taking it all out on Jarin, forcing Jarin to take the brunt of his damn choices…
He felt a different kind of sting in his pride now; if it could still be called pride. Sydney saw that horse from the very first day: Arthur. One of Jarin’s first horses. Sydney had put a lot of miles on that horse from back then all the way to the present. To see him being led to the Dressage arena with an English saddle on his back and Jarin walking beside Tristan… Sydney scowled, tightening the girth on Slim.
There was nothing good about this place. He should have never left Texas.
His eyes trailed back to Jarin, making his scowl loosen to a soft frown.
There was only one exception.

(1698 wordcount)
whoops, a little long, my bad~

Previous: Home is Where The Battlefield Is | Next: Used to be Important

Aaaaaand one more for the flashback pile~
I had planned on three entries for the three hat pons but that ain't happening xD Not with the deadline in a day lolol nope.
So I tried my best to kind of wrap up the flashback, kind of supply an explanation of how this all came to be from Sydney's point of view. I've spent soooo long purposefully hiding his past, the reasoning behind his behavior and personality and such~ It's kind of cathartic to be able to dig up super old pieces of text and be like "See? This is why he was nice in the beginning. And see? This is why his mood started to dip and why he was so snappy at times."
It doesn't excuse his behavior. Just paints the picture.

And I dunno if I ever did fully include this bit where Tristan and Jarin meet Sydney for the first time! This was a treasure to dig up from yeeeeeeaaaaars ago! It's taken me since 2017 to get this far xD And I've still got so much more to get through~ But I love this journey. My characters are a mess but they are my mess <33
(And Tristan <3)

Sydney/Slim/Krissa/Jarin/Arthur/Art © Drasayer
Tristan/RP Words © Saoradh
No specific refs used for cowpoke/cowpony/texas vibin' lands

Procreate/Photoshop CS6