Post by Morgan Hartselle on Apr 14, 2012 23:08:49 GMT -5
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Whose bright idea was it to make summer so damn hot. Morgan couldn’t believe how hot it was, and it was only eight in the morning. To think I only have more of this to look forward to, I don’t want to see noon today. I might just go on a ride instead of working with anybody for that time frame. Scuffing her boots absentmindedly on the ground Morgan moved automatically, the work she was doing was so second nature that it required little of her actual attention. She let her thoughts wander as she plotted how many more horses she could take on. She had Grace and Psyche in the same pasture along with that other horse Eva that she was training for the Sheriff. Eva was one of the most beautiful paints she’d seen in a long time, besides her own Grace of course. Eva was a charming blend of grey and white with one of the most delicate looking faces Morgan had seen. She’d breed true too, if Morgan could find a good stud for her, well she had to convince the Sheriff to she supposed. It was almost an afterthought to include what the owner wanted to happen to the pretty mare. Morgan tended to think of the horses that came into her care as hers. She’d normally remember they had a different owner before she did anything permanent. Morgan grinned to herself, the meeting with the Sheriff sure had been different.
As far as Morgan could tell Erik Black had been through hell and strolled right back out with a lazy saunter. Don’t get me wrong, the man’s no slob or lay about. He’d had an energy about him; a feeling of coiled power, sleeping menace, the kind of chills you get when you see a sleeping cougar. You know it can pounce, you just don’t know when or where it’s going to. He has the kind of aura women either flock to and say ‘protect me’ or run away from screaming. Morgan could only snort in derision at the flimsy females that hid in their parlors. Those kinds of women who decide that praying for the best in a bad situation is the best thing they can do. Instead of grabbing a damn gun and doing something about it. She sighed in exasperation with herself, just because she hated whining and crying didn’t mean that people couldn’t do it. If I could rule the world… Morgan let the thought drift off before she got herself into trouble and finished off the rest of her morning chores.
Psyche, Grace, and Diablo should be done eating by now. I’ll work Psyche lightly today so I can use her later this afternoon. That just means I get to work Grace and Diablo twice as hard. Smiling Morgan began gathering everything she’d need to put them through their paces on the ground. She could only hope that today would be one of Diablo’s good days as her ultimate goal was to make the stallion stud worthy. She feared that in his current condition he’d only savage whatever horse was let into his pasture. Ropes, whips, and treats tucked into her arms Morgan headed out to the pasture. As she saw Psyche and Grace standing together in the far corner she was reminded of Eva’s presence again. Which also lead her thoughts to the fine stud the Sheriff used in all his work, Ned. He may be a beauty of a paint horse but he has an awful name… Morgan grinned, she could imagine the look on Sheriff Black’s face when she told him his horse had a boring name. It might even be worth one of his glares to actually see that look on his face. She’d have to think about it.
Psyche and Grace held back as Eva quietly pranced to greet her, “Yes you are a beauty aren’t you but I’m secretly after your friend Ned. He’d make beautiful babies with Grace.” Morgan sighed wistfully as thoughts of foal covered pastures popped into her head. Eva lost interest with her halfhearted pets once she realized she wasn’t going to get a treat and wandered off to graze. “Fickle creatures, every single one of you.” Morgan whistled shrill; Psyche’s ears perked up as the grey mare picked up her hooves and cantered gracefully in Morgan’s direction. She pinned her ears back at Eva but left the grey painted mare be for the moment. Psyche threw her head over the gate and stomped impatiently for attention. Laughing at her mounts antics Morgan acquiesced and fed the fiery mare a treat. “That’s the only freebie you get today and this time I mean it.” Stroking Psyche’s black muzzle Morgan slipped a head stall over her ears and went to pull the gate open. Like they had many times before the grey mare simply walked through the gate as Morgan secured it back into place. Grace, who had followed behind Psyche, nudged the gate with her nose despondently. Morgan couldn’t resist and leaned over to give the painted mare a kiss on her muzzle, “I’ll be back for you darling, don’t worry about a thing.” Clucking her tongue at Psyche they headed off to begin a light workout.
Attaching a lunge line to her mare’s halter she sent her off at a walk, letting her mind wander as they both knew what this dance was. Watching the lines of her horse, Moran thought about Psyche’s registered name, Smoke Thief never seemed quite so apt. She was so fluid that it appeared she was almost gliding across the ground, rolling gracefully into each step. She’d never seen Psyche stumble; in fact she was the most arrogant horse in the pasture. Even Grace, whose full name was Queen’s Grace, wasn’t as full of herself as Psyche was. Her only match was probably Diablo, Noble Rogue on his papers, and Morgan desperately wanted to breed the two. The problem was Diablo; he was too unpredictable and hadn’t been in the same pasture with another horse since the accident. She had no idea how he would act and since she was alone out here Morgan wasn’t confident she could fight him. If he decided to go after whatever mare she put to pasture with him getting him off would take more than she had and she wasn’t willing to risk a horse's life over it. She pulled Psyche back into her as she lightly patted the mares neck, “A fine mess I’m in wouldn’t you say Psyche? Ah well, now that you’ve gone a few rounds with the lunge let’s move on to jumps.”
Finishing up her light routine with Psyche Morgan went back to pasture to get Grace out to do the same, Diablo was the only one today getting double time. The black stallion needed all the work he could get so after she finished with the others and went on her ride he would be getting it too. As Morgan worked with all the horses on her property she was reminded of just why she loved her work. There was nothing so great as watching an animal you’d trained yourself succeed; Morgan imagined it was a feeling that was similar to what a parent feels watching their child succeed at something. Since she didn’t have any kids, three horses were the next best thing and Morgan was only planning to expand from here on out. She’d saved up quite a bit to get the little place they were staying in Amarillo and she would save up twice as much to get a real ranch to house her animals…and herself. That was the most important thing to her right now it was the goal that she’d work tirelessly into the night to make sure happened. No matter what Morgan would make ends meet and get them out of the red and into the black in no time. Well, maybe a year…or two. The amount of things Morgan had planned far outweighed her means at the moment.
The day was only growing hotter as she finished with Grace and Eva and placed them both back in the large pasture. Morgan headed back into the house to gather what she needed to take with her to town. She had a little spot set up in the merchant area where she showed off whatever horse she fancied at the moment, well except for Diablo of course. He’s like some sort of dirty little secret. I keep him tucked away where no one will be able to cluck their tongues at me and comment on how I can’t fix my own horse. It makes as much sense as it doesn’t, no one is going to want to hire a horse trainer that can’t train their own stock. It’s a little like that saying about commenting on someone else’s cleaning when your own house is a disaster. I wish I could remember all the words… Passing by a mirror Morgan stopped to stare at her reflection for a moment. Her brunette hair was wind tossed, he shirt had a bit of horse slobber on it, and her pants looked like they’d lived through…well words just escaped her on that one. With a disgruntled look at her dirty pants and disheveled hair Morgan headed to change with a long suffering sigh. “Whoever decided that people should look presentable at all times did not work with animals. There is no possible way they could have worked with animals.” The dirty brunette could only complain to herself as she got ready to leave for the town square.
As far as Morgan could tell Erik Black had been through hell and strolled right back out with a lazy saunter. Don’t get me wrong, the man’s no slob or lay about. He’d had an energy about him; a feeling of coiled power, sleeping menace, the kind of chills you get when you see a sleeping cougar. You know it can pounce, you just don’t know when or where it’s going to. He has the kind of aura women either flock to and say ‘protect me’ or run away from screaming. Morgan could only snort in derision at the flimsy females that hid in their parlors. Those kinds of women who decide that praying for the best in a bad situation is the best thing they can do. Instead of grabbing a damn gun and doing something about it. She sighed in exasperation with herself, just because she hated whining and crying didn’t mean that people couldn’t do it. If I could rule the world… Morgan let the thought drift off before she got herself into trouble and finished off the rest of her morning chores.
Psyche, Grace, and Diablo should be done eating by now. I’ll work Psyche lightly today so I can use her later this afternoon. That just means I get to work Grace and Diablo twice as hard. Smiling Morgan began gathering everything she’d need to put them through their paces on the ground. She could only hope that today would be one of Diablo’s good days as her ultimate goal was to make the stallion stud worthy. She feared that in his current condition he’d only savage whatever horse was let into his pasture. Ropes, whips, and treats tucked into her arms Morgan headed out to the pasture. As she saw Psyche and Grace standing together in the far corner she was reminded of Eva’s presence again. Which also lead her thoughts to the fine stud the Sheriff used in all his work, Ned. He may be a beauty of a paint horse but he has an awful name… Morgan grinned, she could imagine the look on Sheriff Black’s face when she told him his horse had a boring name. It might even be worth one of his glares to actually see that look on his face. She’d have to think about it.
Psyche and Grace held back as Eva quietly pranced to greet her, “Yes you are a beauty aren’t you but I’m secretly after your friend Ned. He’d make beautiful babies with Grace.” Morgan sighed wistfully as thoughts of foal covered pastures popped into her head. Eva lost interest with her halfhearted pets once she realized she wasn’t going to get a treat and wandered off to graze. “Fickle creatures, every single one of you.” Morgan whistled shrill; Psyche’s ears perked up as the grey mare picked up her hooves and cantered gracefully in Morgan’s direction. She pinned her ears back at Eva but left the grey painted mare be for the moment. Psyche threw her head over the gate and stomped impatiently for attention. Laughing at her mounts antics Morgan acquiesced and fed the fiery mare a treat. “That’s the only freebie you get today and this time I mean it.” Stroking Psyche’s black muzzle Morgan slipped a head stall over her ears and went to pull the gate open. Like they had many times before the grey mare simply walked through the gate as Morgan secured it back into place. Grace, who had followed behind Psyche, nudged the gate with her nose despondently. Morgan couldn’t resist and leaned over to give the painted mare a kiss on her muzzle, “I’ll be back for you darling, don’t worry about a thing.” Clucking her tongue at Psyche they headed off to begin a light workout.
Attaching a lunge line to her mare’s halter she sent her off at a walk, letting her mind wander as they both knew what this dance was. Watching the lines of her horse, Moran thought about Psyche’s registered name, Smoke Thief never seemed quite so apt. She was so fluid that it appeared she was almost gliding across the ground, rolling gracefully into each step. She’d never seen Psyche stumble; in fact she was the most arrogant horse in the pasture. Even Grace, whose full name was Queen’s Grace, wasn’t as full of herself as Psyche was. Her only match was probably Diablo, Noble Rogue on his papers, and Morgan desperately wanted to breed the two. The problem was Diablo; he was too unpredictable and hadn’t been in the same pasture with another horse since the accident. She had no idea how he would act and since she was alone out here Morgan wasn’t confident she could fight him. If he decided to go after whatever mare she put to pasture with him getting him off would take more than she had and she wasn’t willing to risk a horse's life over it. She pulled Psyche back into her as she lightly patted the mares neck, “A fine mess I’m in wouldn’t you say Psyche? Ah well, now that you’ve gone a few rounds with the lunge let’s move on to jumps.”
Finishing up her light routine with Psyche Morgan went back to pasture to get Grace out to do the same, Diablo was the only one today getting double time. The black stallion needed all the work he could get so after she finished with the others and went on her ride he would be getting it too. As Morgan worked with all the horses on her property she was reminded of just why she loved her work. There was nothing so great as watching an animal you’d trained yourself succeed; Morgan imagined it was a feeling that was similar to what a parent feels watching their child succeed at something. Since she didn’t have any kids, three horses were the next best thing and Morgan was only planning to expand from here on out. She’d saved up quite a bit to get the little place they were staying in Amarillo and she would save up twice as much to get a real ranch to house her animals…and herself. That was the most important thing to her right now it was the goal that she’d work tirelessly into the night to make sure happened. No matter what Morgan would make ends meet and get them out of the red and into the black in no time. Well, maybe a year…or two. The amount of things Morgan had planned far outweighed her means at the moment.
The day was only growing hotter as she finished with Grace and Eva and placed them both back in the large pasture. Morgan headed back into the house to gather what she needed to take with her to town. She had a little spot set up in the merchant area where she showed off whatever horse she fancied at the moment, well except for Diablo of course. He’s like some sort of dirty little secret. I keep him tucked away where no one will be able to cluck their tongues at me and comment on how I can’t fix my own horse. It makes as much sense as it doesn’t, no one is going to want to hire a horse trainer that can’t train their own stock. It’s a little like that saying about commenting on someone else’s cleaning when your own house is a disaster. I wish I could remember all the words… Passing by a mirror Morgan stopped to stare at her reflection for a moment. Her brunette hair was wind tossed, he shirt had a bit of horse slobber on it, and her pants looked like they’d lived through…well words just escaped her on that one. With a disgruntled look at her dirty pants and disheveled hair Morgan headed to change with a long suffering sigh. “Whoever decided that people should look presentable at all times did not work with animals. There is no possible way they could have worked with animals.” The dirty brunette could only complain to herself as she got ready to leave for the town square.
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WORDS 1,609
TAGGED Open to working horses
NOTES My evil plot to steal all the horses in the game has begun
"Morgan Talking", Morgan Thoughts
[/font][/div]TAGGED Open to working horses
NOTES My evil plot to steal all the horses in the game has begun
"Morgan Talking", Morgan Thoughts
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