﹝ ─── the hard way ✦ ﹞ one x one

[bronc]

𝙊𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙉 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙄 𝙋𝙍𝘼𝙔 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐, 𝙊𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙉 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙄 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏

Cody considered the other trainer, standing to meet him, making eye contact. Rafael was about an inch taller, but Cody was stocky, solid, built similar to the ideal horse, in his mind. He took in what the man said, turning it over in his mind, noting the calm tone with which the trainer spoke, but sensing the tension in the air between the two. When the other trainer finished speaking, Cody was silent for a moment, working his jaw, thinking over what he would say. Cody turned his head to the cadenced clopping of hooves nearby, watching the other trainer, noticing the commotion, if you could call it that, turn tail and back out of the barn. Cody tossed a "this is fine" nod in the other's direction, before turning back to Rafael, taking in a breath, talking slow and clear, his southern drawl thick, which he suspected would only cement the other man's opinion of him.

"Well, I commend your passion," Cody began, taking his time with his words. The man was always one to be sensible, presenting what he knew as facts to be true. "But considering western was designed for comfort, your point doesn't hold much weight." Picking up the body brush, Cody went to work flicking out the dust from Parker's coat. He let that statement stand for a moment, then continued, "a good cow horse is as important to a cowboy as breathing. It's a partnership. One can't be without the other." Cody paused, brushing thoughtfully. He could stand here all day with this debate, bringing up good points until his lungs turned blue, but that wouldn't be productive, so better to get it over with. "Western saddles were made for work, for stability. The weight is spread across the horse's back. This makes those 'hours and hours without a break' comfortable and doable."

𝙄𝙎 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿𝘽𝙔𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙃𝘼𝙐𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐, 𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙊𝙁 𝙉𝙀𝙒 𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙊𝙎?

"Personally, I think western is as natural as it comes. The ideal western horse should be able to put in a full days work, strong enough for dad to doctor a calf, but then that same horse should be calm and good-natured for the cowboy's kids to ride in local saddle club shows that same night. I don't think throwing themselves over four foot tall jumps- or barreling around a cross country course, means much to a horse. Western disciplines can all trace back to a certain need being filled. Sorting cows, putting in a day's work, that has purpose. The English horse does its job to be done with it," Cody countered, dropping an imaginary microphone in his head. Being the people-pleaser he was, normally Cody would let people on believing whatever they wanted to, knowing, much like he was, people were set in their ways. So what it was about this man that he felt the need to point out these things he'd known since he was a child, that wasn't clear. Probably, it was the culmination of the past two days, the worsening headache, souring Cody's mood. Or this other trainer's insistence that he was correct, not knowing his opinions were without substance, based on some shared stereotype. Well, it wasn't Cody's job to be this man's wake up call, so he only concluded his part of the conversation with a curt, "Spend some time in a western barn. It would change your mind."

𝙒𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙔 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂 '𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙋 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙍𝙐𝙉𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂
𝙒𝘼𝙄𝙏 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙊𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙒 '𝙏𝙄𝙇 𝙏𝙊𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙒'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙂

[Consulting_Angel]

Rafael Karim
"Nothing less than perfection"

For a few moments, Rafael let himself be more receptive to reason - mostly just for the explanation for the saddle. Granted, it was something he probably could have found out himself, but he had just never bothered to, nor had he been particularly interested in doing so, he'd only previously seen that the Western saddled were big, bulky and heavy to carry and therefore presumed it would be heavier on the horse - something that he still thought it might be, but whatever. Fine. He'd give Cody that point. It did somewhat alleviate his concerns about the heavy saddles. But everything else, he disagreed in still, and was quite ready to defend himself. He did find the point Cody made about partnership with the horse almost laughable, given he was sure that Cody did not have his own horse and only trained them up - though he wasn't going to bring that up... yet.

"I'd argue that with an English saddle, the rider would be closer to the horse, giving a real sense of partnership and teamwork, being able to feel the horse's movement under you and able to give cues much more subtly. And if a horse really didn't want to jump then they'd refuse." Rafael replied, with a slight shrug, knowing that he would not force a horse to do something they really didn't want to do, but he knew that the same could not necessarily be said for all other riders of any discipline. Still, though he was defensive, he still spoke relatively calmly, and hadn't dropped the lead rope again. "I don't think there has to be a purpose to everything they do - and they don't have to be constantly working. Especially, again, with cattle that I've heard too many stories about charging and injuring the horse."

That was where his receptiveness came to an end, though, especially when Cody had suggested that he spend some time in an actual western barn. Change his mind? Not a chance. Rafael grew colder again. "I'll pass on that, thanks." he said, choosing not to bring up his doubts that Cody would spend any time with English riders and potentially change his mind. "Now - if you don't mind, I have others things to do than stand here and debate something neither of us will change our minds on." Rafael started to leave, not having to stand more than a couple of steps before Nightstorm followed close behind, not really needing the lead rope to guide him out.

[bronc]

𝙊𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙉 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙄 𝙋𝙍𝘼𝙔 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐, 𝙊𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙉 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙄 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏

Cody could be mistaken, but he swore the other trainer took the time to consider his point, which came as a surprise. Cody was sure this was to be a one-sided conversation, like talking to a wall, which more than likely would be the case for Rafael. Cody was a man not inclined to change, being set in his ways. He knew what he had, what worked for him, what didn't so much. What he knew was from years of trial and error, his methods like clay in his hands, constantly molding, taking shape from the near-misses, success, and blunders. Some of it was taught by those who had come before him, their way of doing things. It went without saying, though, that there would be people who didn't see things the same way. There were things Cody did that other trainers did differently. In the same way, these other trainers' methods wouldn't work so well for Cody. So, Cody knew whatever points this man brought up during their debate in the tacking bay wouldn't make a dent in his opinions, and he surmised the same was true for Rafael. The man would be blue in the face before this other trainer considered his side, thus, this was more a show to Rafael that Cody couldn't be intimidated or bent by the other trainer's opinions.

The origins of the English saddle made enough sense in Cody's head. It was something he hadn't taken the time to consider, since the man wouldn't be caught dead in one of those tiny, sleek saddles. Not that this changed anything. So, western and English were different disciplines, different styles, which needed different equipment. It wasn't something Cody didn't know. Still, he stayed silent while Rafael went on, sighing with indifference. The other man's defense that a horse could simply refuse something they didn't want to do weak in his mind, since he couldn't think of a single reason why the horse would want to make it to the other side of the jump anyway, other than to be done with it. Could cutting or cow work be dangerous, well of course. Cody would let Rafael score that point, it wasn't quite two years ago a particularly nasty spill during a cutting show had left Cody in traction for a month, when a calf darted in front of the colt he'd been working at the last minute. It only took someone with half a brain to figure out what happened. The next thing Cody knew, he was in the dirt, his body crushed by the colt's weight. What a way to make a first impression. His leg still caused trouble on wet, cold mornings. So, sure, cow work wasn't without its dangers, but the same could be said for any other discipline. One loose calf, a solid fence on the cross-country course, it was the same deal.

𝙄𝙎 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿𝘽𝙔𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙃𝘼𝙐𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐, 𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙊𝙁 𝙉𝙀𝙒 𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙊𝙎?

Cody could sense the second the other man's cordiality went out the window, the air in the barn seeming to drop ten degrees. So, that last comment had gotten to the man. Cody watched with a slight smirk as he practically stormed off, the black sporty thing on his tail like a child. Turning back to Parker, blowing out a breath, he messaged his temples, the headache showing no sign of weakening, probably not until a night of sleep. He paused to stroke the cow horse's ear, the thudding of work boots on concrete coming near a sign Trail was back, able to escape the clutches of whatever important business he was dealing with on the other line. The slightly older trainer stepped back into the bay to work on brushing the stud, Cody soaking in the silence, other than a few words spoken between the two western trainers. When twenty minutes passed, Cody took off Parker's ice boots, setting them on the shelf, then took the time to clip the black lead rope on Parker's dark brown leather halter. With the slightest bit of pressure Parker followed behind Cody, who began the walk from the barn to the pasture, Trail pointing out the direction of it for him, though Cody, since the tour, was now starting to pickup the layout of the barn. Parker walked close behind Cody, but not too close, didn't pull but didn't stray behind. It was clear had known nothing other than the best handling since day one, it was a shame to know this one had been left to sit, due to the lack of trainers. Still, maybe it was a sign, that for the time being, before it was time to leave too soon, Cody was where he was supposed to be.

Parker waited politely while Cody opened the gate, bringing him into the square-shaped pasture, where a hay feeder and a buddy, a pretty chestnut thing with four white socks, waited for him. Sliding the halter off Parker's nearly perfectly conformed head, short, broad, with wide-set, kind eyes, Cody patted the gelding one last time, then stepped out of the pasture, bolting the gate behind him. Tossing the halter into his other hand, Cody took a moment to pause, scanning his surroundings, the cookie-cutter pastures spread out before him in order, nothing was out of place here, before neatly hanging the halter on its hook on the fence, turning to make the walk back into the barn.

𝙒𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙔 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂 '𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙋 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙍𝙐𝙉𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂
𝙒𝘼𝙄𝙏 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙊𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙒 '𝙏𝙄𝙇 𝙏𝙊𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙒'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙂

[Consulting_Angel]

Rafael Karim
"Nothing less than perfection"

The sun was almost done setting by the time Rafael was finished for the evening. After he'd taken Nightstorm out to his pasture for a few hours, he'd spent the time working a few yard chores - and helping a couple of the other English-style riders with some training. He loved being approached and considered as a go-to for help. It made him confident, more comfortable with his abilities, especially when it went right. It had also taken his mind off Cody, who he'd avoided for the rest of the day. He was not sure he'd be able to hold another civil conversation with the Western trainer today.

And now, as the day drew to a close, Rafael brought in Destiny and Nightstorm to their stalls for the night. There was a forecast for some rain, and he never liked leaving the two out at night, even without bad weather. He'd made sure they had fresh haynets, the automatic water feeders were still working, and, of course, they both had their evening feed. Everything was good. Ready for him to go home and get some rest and then come back in bright and early in the morning. He already had a plan for the next day - the entire week, really. Carefully scheduled feeding and training and chores. Spontaneity had never been his thing, and made him a little nervous.

As he started to get ready to leave, a group of trainers were gathered around together, talking excitedly. One of them spotted him and called over. "You're coming too, right Rafael?"
Rafael stopped, somewhat confused. "Where to..?" he asked.
"The group hangout - we moved it up to tonight for the new guy!" was the response. Rafael scoffed to himself. Of course they did. He tried not to go to many of the group hangouts, finding the crowd could be a little rowdy for his tastes. And, the whole spontaneous moving it up just for Cody made him even less willing to go. But, he noticed that Tyler, the owner of the yard, was also going to be going, as were quite a few of the other English trainers, so he figured that at least he wouldn't be entirely alone.
"Ugh, fine. But I'm not giving anyone a lift." Rafael agreed, if reluctantly.

[bronc]

𝙊𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙉 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙄 𝙋𝙍𝘼𝙔 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐, 𝙊𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙉 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙄 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏

Since turning Parker back out, Cody was stuck in the barn office, spending the day completing the selection of paperwork and onboarding that came with each new position, something the man could probably do in his sleep. It needed to be done, but it still wasn't the way he wanted to spend this day, the sitting still, not being able to work making him uneasy. By the time Cody had stumbled out of the office, the last paper signed, it was close to sunset, dark clouds punctuating the dusking sky, promising a storm. Now, chores were nearly done, the final horse brought in for the night, this one a black show horse by the name of Trooper, one of the reining horses that would be in his care. Cody had spent the last hour or so settling into the manufactured home on the outskirts of the property where he would be spending his nights for who knew how long, though settling was simply Cody tossing what little he owned, not much more than the man could carry, into the closet, then calling it good.

Cody unbolted the door, bringing the quarter horse into the stall. There was a commotion nearby in the barn. Cody could make out four distinct voices, two he knew, two he didn't. The man slipped the halter off, when he noticed one of them, a young brunet by the name of Braydon, standing by the stall. Cody tossed a nod in the man's direction, sliding out of the stall, closing and bolting the door behind him, Trooper making a beeline for his grain. "What's up?"

"We're taking you out tonight, man," Braydon beamed, steel blue orbs twinkling, two bright spots on his sun tanned face.

𝙄𝙎 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿𝘽𝙔𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙃𝘼𝙐𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐, 𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙊𝙁 𝙉𝙀𝙒 𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙊𝙎?

"What was that?" Cody questioned, turning to hang the halter on its hook, nailed beside the rack for sheets and blankets.

"You're one of us now. We take all the new ones out, show them how we do things.". By now, the other trainers had come to where Braydon stood with Cody, smiles on their faces. It soon became clear to Cody this was some sort of tradition for the trainers, once in a while, when chores were done for the day, to meet up, catch up with each other over dinner and a few drinks at a bar in town. Cody mirrored their smiles. This ought to be something. It was a tradition Cody could get behind. Some may think Cody was too obsessed with his work to be one for a good time, but the truth was the man could be quite the social butterfly when the work was done. It would be the perfect opportunity to catch up with these new trainers, to find his place amongst them.

Twenty minutes later, Cody and four others were piling into Trail's crew cab, Braydon calling shotgun, Cody sandwiched between two others in the back seat. It seemed tonight Trail was the designated driver, while Cody was the designated drinker. It seemed these nights were taken serious by the trainers, the parking lot outside the barns overflowing with activity, cars and trucks idling, windows down, music playing, some standing around, others still trying to secure their rides. Then, seemingly all at once, they began to set out. Trail climbed behind the wheel, the F-250 Super Duty coming to life. One of the guys in the front plugged their phone in, Wade Forster blaring from the speakers while Trail turned out of the parking lot onto the winding driveway, the others following close behind. They turned left onto the two-lane, making the drive into town, the dually's motor drowned out by the country music from one of the trainer's playlist. Without a doubt, Cody would have some stories to tell from this one.

𝙒𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙔 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂 '𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙋 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙍𝙐𝙉𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂
𝙒𝘼𝙄𝙏 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙊𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙒 '𝙏𝙄𝙇 𝙏𝙊𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙒'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙂

[Consulting_Angel]

Rafael Karim
"Nothing less than perfection"

Rafael waited in his car, alone, for the cohort of other vehicles to begin pulling out. He did not like other people in his car, especially when it came to one of these nights out, especially as he didn't want to risk getting it a mess. And he didn't want to be reliant on someone else to give him a lift home. But it meant that he could have a little while to himself, listen to the music he wanted to listen to, and prepare himself for the noisy and slightly chaotic environment of a bar.

As the group arrived, someone seemed to have called ahead of time, as someone showed the group to a large table that had been reserved for them. Clearly a few smaller tables had been pushed together. The server, Janice, told the group that someone would be around to take their order soon, and that any drinks could be ordered directly at the bar, and with that, left to see to another, smaller, group of customers.

Rafael sat himself towards the end of the table, between and across from a few of the other English trainers, the divide of the disciplines quite apparent.
"I didn't even know there was someone new." Elliot, one of the other English trainers, commented, idly glancing at the menu, but seemed to already know what he would be ordering.
"How fortunate for you. I've had quite the few encounters today already." Rafael sighed, although he wasn't sure how someone could miss an entirely new trainers on the yard for the whole day.
"Oh? What's he like?" Penny asked, quite curious. "I saw you two talking earlier on - though it didn't look good."
Rafael scoffed. "He's just like the other Western trainers. Cocky, arrogant... the usual. No doubt going to be rowdy. He'll fit in with the other Westerns great."
"Well, I am not surprised Rafael dislikes him already." Elliot laughed, to which Rafael raised an eyebrow.
'I'm not that predictable... am I?"
"Only when it comes to the Western trainers." another English trainer, Tabitha, chimed in.

Fortunately, the conversation soon changed focus as someone else mentioned the event season, which would shortly be upon them. Rafael tuned out of the conversation a little, as the other trainers got more involved with it, and glanced down the table to the Western trainers, though didn't make it obvious what he was doing.