ceremonials ;

The calls back home had always made the blonde-haired woman a sappy mess. Even if her father assured her he was faring well, she wanted to know for sure. She loved the farm just as much as he did, probably even a little bit more, but telling him that would bruise his ego a bit. She exhaled tightly, forcing sienna colored eyes on the landscape around her as she took it all in and tried to visualize the lands back home. She could imagine the bluegrass swaying with every breeze, rippling and moving to the whims of the wind. She missed the complaints of the cattle as they were bossed about by the riders and their horses, and the sound of hooves picking up speed against the mountainous region where she lived. The mere thought of it had been enough to cause goose bumps to be raised on her tanned arms and she shuddered at the idea of it all. She hesitantly turned away from the landscape before her and returned to what needed to be done. After all, she wasn’t getting paid to daydream.

Shifting back towards the stall she was in, Azaria managed to buckle down on her task before she exhaled, a light film of sweat beginning to appear. The heat was something she was used to as Wyoming was almost about the same humidity. She mentally scolded herself for letting her mind revert back to recent thoughts and emptied her thoughts to mindlessly soar through the stalls. Once her chores was taken care of, she let a small smile roll onto her lips before she decided she had had enough of this mundane lifestyle. Tugging down on the brim of her cowboy hat, she strode out into the open fields with a sense of purpose. It wasn’t long before she spotted the fiery red stallion’s coat in the distance. With a sharp and shrill whistle, there came movement from afar. She saw his head lift from the greenery, and like an old romance movie, the stallion galloped forwards with ease. His strides greedily ate the ground and she watched as he came closer, her heart thundering with the reverberation of his own hooves. He nickered in greeting, clearly excited to see the short woman in front of him. She laughed softly, stroking his face before grabbing his lead rope and halter.

By the time the duo had reached the cross-ties, Pride was nearly prancing on the spot. He’d always been eager to work and to please his rider. Before Azaria had the chance to pull away, Pride had firmly grabbed ahold of her hat and began to fondly nibble on it. She sighed heavily, pushing him away with a playful glare. ”I don’t think there’s a hat I own that you haven’t marked as yours,” she muttered, staring at the indifferent stare that he returned. She laughed lightly as she groomed him thoroughly and stared at the tack room door once she was finished. With a visible nod, Azaria decided against it. If she was going all out with avoiding the typical lifestyle that she went through day to day, she was going to commit to it.

She swung up on the red roan’s back and urged him towards the outdoor to spy another horse and rider in the ring. She gave an acknowledging smile to the pair before she opened the gate and closed it shut. Pride was quiet but with his ears pricked forwards, it was clear he knew he’d be put to work. Adjusting her position and the lead rope around his neck, she urged the stallion towards the rail to warm him up. Soon, he moved into a jog, and Pride nickered excitedly, waiting the chance to lope. Azaria smiled, patting his neck before she gave the indication to lope. Immediately he surged forwards, circling to avoid the pair, and performed some reigning moves with ease. Making sure the other rider and her horse was out of the way, she gave Pride the permission to gallop ahead. Soon his hind legs sunk into the ground and the dirt sprayed around them. With a broad smile, she patted his neck and walked him beside the horse and rider. ”Good morning,” she greeted, eyes smiling as her lips curved. ”Sorry about not saying hello earlier. I needed to work the beast before he got all wound up,” she stated before giving an apologetic smile. ”I’m Azaria by the way, and this is Pride.” The roan’s ears flicked backwards as his name was spoken and Azaria patted his neck, waiting for the woman beside her to answer if she chose to.

Azaria was no stranger to hard work or to the grand and ever changing world of horses. She had always loved the four legged creatures, even her father had the hardest of times pulling her away from the horses he owned and worked with on a daily basis. She loved the fact that within this realm, no one knew everything as there was something to be taught and to learn on a daily basis. She was taught a new lesson every day and all that new knowledge was stored away in her mind to be called upon when the situation called for it. She’d always been fond of Western riding, as it was the saddle she practically grew up in. Nearly every day of her life as a child and as an adult, she had spent countless hours on end upon the back of a trusted horse and companion. The ways of the English riders appealed to her and it wasn’t long before Azaria transitioned between the two saddles, but every now and then, she’d go bareback and today was one of those days she just wanted to meld into the horse beneath her.

She let her eyes fall onto the russet mane Pride possessed and absent mindedly tangled her fingers with in it, feeling the wiry strands in against her palm. Pride nickered in response, clearly focused upon every movement his rider was making. He was a sensitive mount, one that would lurch forwards at the slightest movement that indicated a faster pace or a certain trick he’d been taught by Azaria. He’d become used to her seat and every twitch of her muscle that she almost swore he could read her mind. She could just think of what she had to next with him and Pride would just begin to do it. It was one of those things that fascinated her beyond belief and to experience the bond between horse and rider was something she would cherish for all eternity.

Pride’s head dropped low as he felt Azaria’s seat relax and she patted his neck gently. It wasn’t long before her attention was guided back towards the woman beside her and she was pleased with the friendly tone in her response. She was wary of meeting the people here as most seemed rather cold towards stall hands such as herself. It wasn’t like back home that was for sure. Reminding herself that it wasn’t in her best interest to dwell on the past, she let a small smile work its way onto her lips as brunette beside her introduced herself and her mount. ”Well, it is a pleasure to meet both of you,” she commented, her voice light, yet doused heavily with accent that contrasted starkly with Emmy’s own. She grinned broadly at her comment that was paired with the half-smirk that had said it all. Azaria knew she wouldn’t change Pride’s eagerness to work for anything in the world. She couldn’t imagine him otherwise. At her inquiry, Ria fidgeted slightly and reached up to adjust her cowboy hat against the relentless light of the sun. ”A member of the staff actually. Just a humble ole stall hand,” she answered, adding a little sense of humor that detracted away the sincerity of her staffing title. ”How ‘bout you? Student, staff, or boarder? Pick your poison,” she stated lightly, eyes laughing even though no laughter was elicited from her own mouth.