﹝ ─── the hard way ✦ ﹞ one x one

[bronc]

one x one with wilder ✦ & Consulting_Angel
please no posting unless you are one of us

[Consulting_Angel]

Rafael Karim | 27 | Cismale | Bisexual
Pronouns: He/Him
Riding Style/Discipline: English/Eventing
Appearance: He has black hair that is very soft, and slightly wavy, kept short at the sides, though longer on top, and his eyes are deep brown, almost black. He stands at about 5'11'', and has an athletic build. The faded remnants of a scar mark the back of his left hand, and he has a good, slightly relaxed posture but isn't slouchy.

Personality: Rafael is a perfectionist. If he can't get something right or up to his standard the first time, then he'll try again and again until he does. He is hardworking, to the point that he'll wear himself out, but insist on pushing through. He usually thrives on competition, using it as a chance to prove himself - something which he frequently does - but still doesn't feel like he's quite good enough. If he loses, he will isolate himself for a full day, before coming back and with a new plan of action.

With other people, Rafael is usually friendly and social. He's known to be a warm presence, but he does have a tendency to judge others very quickly. If he decides that he doesn't like you on the first meeting, then there's very little that would change his mind. For those that irritate him, Rafael either ignores them or will be sharp and generally unfriendly.
For others that he gets along with, Rafael is patient, and often gives advice, if asked. He loves to help others improve - if they so wish - but notably does not hold others to the high standards that he holds himself at.

Bio: Rafael was born in Lebanon, and had two older siblings. His family moved to America when he was 8, and he is fluent in Arabic, English, Armenian and French - in that order. His parents opened up a restaurant, focused on Lebanese food, which has become rather successful.
While he was helping at the restaurant at the age of 12, a couple of Equestrians were customers, and he became very curious about their horses - he watched them while their owners were inside getting some food to-go.
Though they were reluctant, his parents relented and paid for him to have 'just 6' riding lessons, expecting him to lose interest. He was told he was supposedly a natural, and Rafael decidedly did not lose interest. So, on the condition that he'd help out more at the restaurant, they continued paying for his lessons.

At 15, his maternal grandmother died. Since his grandfather had died a few years prior, the full inheritance was passed down. Rafael, his parents and siblings, all received a rather large sum of money. He was not allowed access to it until he was 16. His parents already guessed what it was he intended to spend the money on, and insisted that he take up part time work at the local Equestrian Centre instead, so that he could learn hands-on about looking after a horse - this experience also becoming how he'd pay for his lessons, much to his parents' relief.

Finally, at 16, he bought his first horse - a Welsh Section D named Blue. He started spending most of his time at the Equestrian Centre, helping out to help pay for keeping Blue there. There was only so much he could do with Blue, however, and Rafael was aiming for the stars. So, after a few years, he made the very difficult decision to sell Blue, and bought the very green Nightstorm in his place. It has taken a lot of training and patience, but Rafael and Nightstorm (Thunder Through The Night) have become a very well-known team. A couple of years ago, Rafael also took on a rescue horse - a Friesian mare named Destiny - with whom he is making steady progress with. One of his first times riding Destiny, he was thrown from her after she got spooked by a falling tree branch, and broke his wrist. While this put him out of commission for a few months, Rafael came back more determined. His wrist still has its bad days, but he often pushes past the pain to keep training, even if he shouldn't be. Besides, how bad could it be? It happened over a year ago.
Despite that tiny setback, Rafael is considered at the Equestrian Centre one of the top trainers, especially with his recent progress with Destiny.

Show Name: Thunder Through The Night
Stable Name: Nightstorm
Age: 11
Gender: Gelding
Breed: Anglo-Arabian
Height: 15.1hh
Personality: Calm and sweet, Nightstorm is a very friendly horse. He loves attention from anything and anyone, and will be willing to follow anyone around without a leadrope. He can be oblivious to other horses and their reactions to him until it is too late and he is kicked at or nipped. Nightstorm does have quite a bit of energy, though, and will work for a somewhat lengthy amount of time - but does have a tendency to get distracted, especially if there are other horses nearby.

Show Name: --
Stable Name: Destiny
Age: 9
Gender: Mare
Breed: Friesian
Height: 16.2hh
Personality: Wary around unfamiliar people and horses, Destiny can be rather skittish. After a bad past, she was fortunately rescued and rehabilitated, and Rafael has worked hard to gain her trust. She is wonderful worker, though, quick and willing to learn. She also trusts a bit more easily now. However she is still very nervous around whips. She used to throw off riders if anything spooked her, but she has since calmed down enough to not do so now.

[bronc]

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𝘐 𝘋𝘖𝘕'𝘛 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘒 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘐𝘛𝘠 𝘔𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘚 𝘚𝘓𝘖𝘞 𝘌𝘕𝘖𝘜𝘎𝘏 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘔𝘌
𝘚𝘖 𝘐'𝘔 𝘎𝘖𝘕𝘕𝘈 𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘕𝘖𝘞, 𝘐 𝘈𝘐𝘕'𝘛 𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘕𝘖 𝘞𝘈𝘙𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘚

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𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: cody william woodhouse
○ first: "helpful" middle: "protector", "strong-willed warrior" last: "house in the wood"
𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃: cody
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: he/him
𝐀𝐆𝐄: twenty-seven
𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: bisexual
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: single
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𝘕𝘖𝘞 𝘐'𝘔 𝘉𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘏𝘖𝘙𝘚𝘌𝘚 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘐𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘖
𝘐 𝘞𝘖𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌 𝘎𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘔𝘌𝘕'𝘚 𝘋𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘔𝘚 𝘎𝘖

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𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: five foot ten
𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃: solid, stocky, muscled
𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍: lightly tanned. calloused hands
𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑: dark brown. practical, typically curls behind his ears. scruffy beard
𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒: cobalt blue. searching

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𝘔𝘖𝘚𝘛 𝘕𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛𝘚 𝘐 𝘞𝘖𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘏𝘖𝘞 𝘍𝘈𝘙 𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘐𝘕 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘚 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘝𝘌𝘓
𝘖𝘙 𝘏𝘖𝘞 𝘍𝘈𝘙 𝘈 𝘔𝘈𝘕 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘎𝘖 𝘉𝘌𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘖𝘕𝘌'𝘚 𝘛𝘙𝘜𝘓𝘠 𝘜𝘕𝘙𝘈𝘝𝘌𝘓𝘌𝘋

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𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒: protective. industrious. practical. observant. capable
𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒: willful. stoic. spontaneous. perfectionist. unwavering
𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒: inconsistent. people pleaser. sensitive. defeatist. over-thinker

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𝘚𝘖 𝘞𝘖𝘕'𝘛 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘗𝘙𝘈𝘠 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘔𝘌 𝘛𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛?
𝘐'𝘝𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘕 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘋𝘖𝘞𝘕 𝘈 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 𝘊𝘖𝘓𝘋 𝘙𝘖𝘈𝘋
𝘐'𝘝𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘕 𝘋𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘍 𝘈 𝘗𝘖𝘙𝘊𝘏 𝘚𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘓𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛𝘚
𝘏𝘖𝘗𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘍𝘐𝘕𝘋 𝘔𝘠𝘚𝘌𝘓𝘍 𝘉𝘈𝘊𝘒 𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘌

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[Consulting_Angel]

Rafael Karim
"Nothing less than perfection"

Today seemed like it was going to be a wavering day for his wrist. He felt a slight twinge in it, the sort he'd get that would warn him not to use it too much. Rafael would ignore it, though - how was he meant to keep up his reputation of being a top horse trainer if he wasn't able to do his job? Besides, it didn't always mean it was going to hurt, sometimes it just mildly twinged and that was that. Anyway. It had been a couple of hours since he'd fed both Nightstorm and Destiny, and he'd finished all the yard chores he had for that morning, so he figured it was about time he took one of them out for some training - perhaps he'd work with Destiny first, he quite hoped to enter her into a low-level Dressage competition in a few weeks. He'd need to register a 'proper' name for her, but that could be thought about later. It would be strange, starting with a low level with Destiny, especially after everything he'd accomplished with Nightstorm, but it would be an excellent way to prove to himself the progress that he'd made with the mare.

Taking the halter and lead rope that hung on a bar just outside of the stall, he slipped it over Destiny's head, loosely fastened it up, and then unlocked and opened the stall door and lead her out. Making sure to close and lock the stall door, he took Destiny over to a sheltered space that had four large bays on one side, and the other side had two, large shelves that spanned most of the length of the wall, where various grooming kits were stored, each labelled with who the kit belonged to. He tied Destiny to a metal ring in one of the empty bays, and found his kit, opening it to first get a body brush and a rubber curry comb. While he brushed Destiny, he overheard a conversation between a couple of others that were in another bay, also brushing a horse. From what he heard, they were talking about a new trainer that was due to be arriving that day - supposedly very soon. Some Western riding prodigy or something. Rafael was a little shocked. How had he never heard of this? Perhaps it was just short notice for everyone, and he supposed it made sense - he didn't usually talk to the other Western-style riders, so there was no real reason for him to know or care. It was the 'prodigy' bit that got him, though. That word was not thrown around here lightly, and for some reason, it irked him.

Rafael finished brushing Destiny, then he took out the hoofpick from his kit, and carefully picked out each of the mare's hooves, only half-listening to the conversation now, as it had moved onto a different subject. Once he'd finished, he left to quickly go to the tack room to get Destiny's tack. He trusted her enough to let her alone for a few minutes, but he still made sure to get her tack quickly, just in case.
Once he returned, he set the bridle aside, hanging it over the bay divider, and put the saddle on Destiny, and then moved on to put the bridle on her, taking the headcollar off as he did so, so the two wouldn't be tangled. Finally, once he was finished, he used the reins as a lead, and took the headcollar with him as he started to walk Destiny towards the outdoor arenas. He stopped off at Destiny's stall briefly to hang the headcollar back up, and then continued on his way.

[bronc]

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

To say the trip into New York had been a chore would be the understatement of the century, Cody decided.

By the time he was barreling down NY 28N in a borrowed dually truck, it was two weeks to the day since he'd gotten the notion to clear out, get gone, skip town, whatever you wanted to call it. Cody himself didn't quite know how to label the feeling, this innate impulse to constantly be going, moving on, other than some wild instinct to flee. Fleeing wasn't quite the right word though, because in truth there wasn't anything he was trying to outrun. It was an instinct he'd been carrying on his shoulder nearly his whole life. He'd split from the Navy four years prior, split from the closest thing he'd known to home when he was eighteen, seemed his life had been one split after the other. His latest stint had been in Winthrop, way over on the other side of the country, working at the stockyards, showing the sale horses under saddle for prospective buyers. It was a trade he had grown fond of over the course of the four months he'd been on the payroll, due to what he thought was the fact that he saw himself in those horses that came through the sale. Moving from place to place, hand to hand, never sure of where they'd be sleeping next, or when it'd be time to move on, knowing only that the time would come. It always did. He'd been shackled to this nomadic way of life since he was young. Each new opportunity was one more town he'd be leaving in a cloud of dust a few months later, one more sight he'd lay eyes on one last time in the rearview mirror. Where he'd been before that phase- he measured his life not in years but in phases, five months there, two years there- well, he didn't feel like opening that door again.

What do you know, four months spent in the stockyards, the need had come back. The one good thing about this way of life? There were thousands of others out there just like him, and this meant somebody was always leaving, positions were always open, and it wouldn't take long for him to land his next stint. This time, it was a training position that brought him over two thousand miles east. The morning after he'd packed up what little belongings he had to his name, he'd climbed aboard a Greyhound bus bound for Seattle. That's where the trouble had started. He'd found that all the decent flights out of Seattle-Tacoma were overbooked- seemed he wasn't the only one with the need to move now- leaving him with no other option but to take a commuter flight east, spend a night in a motel in downtown Spokane, then take an early-morning connecting flight into Minneapolis. In Denver, his luck had continued when bad weather had cancelled his flight into Minneapolis-St. Paul, leaving him stranded in the terminal for what was left of the day and into the night. By the time the bump of landing had nudged Cody out of the closest thing he'd gotten to sleep in the past forty-eight hours, his brain was so muddled with airport coffee and departures that he'd nearly forgotten his bag off the carousel. He'd spent the night playing catch up with an old buddy in a speakeasy in downtown Minneapolis until the early hours of the morning, much of the day sleeping on his couch, and by the time the moon began to rise, he was crossing the Wisconsin border, pushing eighty in the friend's truck. Connections, delays, and closing time be damned, he was going to make it into New York on time.

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

The final hour of the drive had been quiet; Cody, in the beginning stages of a migraine, had switched off the radio, silencing the Syracuse station he'd had for the past forty miles. Now, one hand caressing his temples, he was pulling into the barn. The gravel driveway wound left, black fences surrounding both sides. Pastures unfurled on both sides, manicured to perfection. Out his window, Cody caught sight of two horses on the hill. This was big money country, each of these horses worth more money than he'd seen in his life. Without a doubt he'd stand out.

When he'd spoken on the phone to the owner that morning, sitting at a truck stop somewhere in Indiana after suffering through bumper-to-bumper traffic in Chicago, Cody had been instructed to meet the owner in the barn. By some miracle, he'd showed up before he was scheduled to. Sitting in the truck, he weighed his options. Curiosity got the better of him; instead of waiting in the truck, he made the choice to head into the barn. Climbing out of the dually, he took a moment to stretch, then proceeded towards the barn. It was everything he'd thought it to be and a little more; polished wood, the aisle impeccable, not a speck or dirt or loose shaving in sight. Taking in a breath, hands in his pockets, he sauntered towards what he found to be the center of the barn. There were several other people in the barn, some he took to be trainers, others clients. He stood out of the way, arms crossed over his chest, one boot propped behind him on the wall, watching with disinterest out of the corner of his eye as a young man to his left tacked up a stunning Friesian. He noticed the man's wrist, the telling signs of an injury that hadn't quite healed in something as small as the slight hesitation. Working through the pain that naturally came hand in hand with this line of work was something Cody wrote the book on, and he had the aches and buckles to prove it.

"Better watch that wrist." He nodded towards the man as he walked by with the mare. It was a mutter, little more than a whisper, said in a nonchalant manner that meant he couldn't care less, both about the circumstances of the injury or the man's reaction to him.

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 comment caught him off guard. He stopped quite suddenly, just a few feet away from the stranger, Destiny letting out a snort of surprise. Rafael wondered if it was that obvious about his wrist - he didn't really think about using it, and had barely noticed the slight twinge when he'd been brushing and tacking up Destiny. And he hadn't worn a cast or bandage for it in many months. Perhaps he had a way of working that hinted at it, Rafael knew he occasionally took moments of hesitation. Or it was an extremely lucky guess by the stranger. Or a warning in general, had he not been holding the mare's reins properly. Well, he knew that last one couldn't be true, he knew exactly what he was doing. More likely, perhaps he already had that kind of experience and knew the signs, however small. Whatever it was, though, he had that moment of being irked again - the guy hadn't even done anything aside from his comment!
Wait a moment...

Rafael finally realised that he did not recognise this stranger. Obviously. And, judging from his appearance and manner, may very well be the exact person that he'd overheard the other two riders talking about. He bristled, which was very unusual for him. Maybe he sensed a competition. He already had something of a distaste for Western-style riders, often considering them to be too brash and loud, or otherwise just unpleasant. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't going to at least be civil - he had to give a relatively good impression, after all.
"I'll be fine, thanks. The owner's in the office, if that's who you're waiting for." Rafael informed, though he noticed one of the other two riders had already scurried off - likely to fetch said owner. He wondered whether to wait, or just continue on to the outdoor arenas. He supposed it would be more hospitable to wait, and so he turned Destiny around so she could see why she was waiting - he'd noticed the mare had been turning her head to look at the stranger, a little warily, so he figured it was best that she was able to have a proper look.

[bronc]

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

Cody didn't pay much mind to the man's answer to his comment, or his mention of the barn owner, eyes instead darting to the snorty black mare standing before him. She was a beautiful thing through and through, despite the flared nostrils and slight flighty look in her eyes, from her short sable hair groomed to perfection down to her thick feathers. He quite liked the look of her, would've liked more to see how she did under a western saddle. In all of his years spent in the horse industry, one of the things that had never made sense to him was the English style of riding. The way he saw it, he considered western far more natural, a much more suitable life for both horse and rider. The style originated from ranching traditions, shaped over time by the needs of the cowboy in the wild west of days gone by. In the days before barbed wire fenced in the open country, before the west was tamed, when herds measuring in the thousands grazed freely, days in the saddle gathering strays were long, thus, the style was designed with the intention to keep both cowboy and horse comfortable for long periods. Horses used their natural instincts to follow the movement of a cow, becoming more of a partner than a tool, allowing cowboys to finish their day's work quicker and easier. To Cody, this style was more practical to him. What good did leaping over four foot tall fences, or performing fancy maneuvers have?

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

He also distasted the treatment of English horses. His ways of wandering had him working a plethora of different jobs; one that stood out was a position he took back in Oklahoma at a top dressage barn. The money was good, even for a stable hand, but what he witnessed sent him packing less than a month later. Horses cooped up in their stalls, forbidden from being their own self or having any life outside of the mindless work in the arena, day in and day out. Treated more like machinery than a breathing creature, babied and pampered from the time they hit the ground, and the worst part of it all was they didn't know any different. Back home, his horses were allowed to be horses, to be left alone to develop and mature, to make mistakes and more importantly learn from them, to interact with each other and their environment as they were made to do. Too many times he'd been handed a so-called "problem horse", only to find out that the poor thing was nearly depressed from a life spent in solitude, not unlike a prisoner, never once given the chance to be a horse. It was a sad sight to see.

It was a debate he'd had many times before, why western was the superior discipline, one he'd be having now with this man on any other day, but the truth was, between the worsening headache and the way the past two days had transpired, he wasn't up to it, didn't offer the man any more than a brief condescending glance and a mumbled "thanks" to his previous comment about the owner's office, though by then he'd seen out of the corner of his eye one of the others he'd spotted earlier head off to what he assumed was the office, no doubt to let the owner know Cody had made it. He had no doubt he'd be coming across this man again, no matter how short his stay here would be, when he had some rest and a little more in his system than black coffee out of a Styrofoam cup from a nondescript truck stop, he'd bring him into the debate. He knew the man would soon form his own opinion on Cody and his ways, honestly he probably had some notion in his mind now, but he knew what worked for him and what didn't. Still, a little friendly competition never hurt anyone. Might as well make his time here worthwhile.

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"

He tensed slightly, catching the condescending glance and what he considered was barely a thank you. Typical Western riders. He almost challenged the other man, to dare him to get into an argument, but since he knew it would not bode well for either of them - mostly himself - for there to be an argument, Rafael kept his mouth shut. For now. This did cement his opinion on the stranger, though, and it was certainly not positive. Maybe he would not have to see him all that much, though, given the other man was a Western rider. How anyone wanted to choose that style of riding was beyond Rafael.

English style riding was elegant, and exemplified a horse's natural beauty and elegance. Western riding just seemed reckless - he hardly saw any of the Western riders wear a helment. There was also more variety in the disciplines that fell under the style. As far as he knew, no Western disciplines involved jumping - which was probably one of his favourite things to do. It would be a while before he worked on jumping with Destiny, but Nightstorm could clear some high fences. Why anyone would want to barrel around chasing cattle or around a few poles (or, indeed, barrels) was beyond him, and some of those sliding stops he saw just looked so uncomfortable for the horse.
In addition, the saddle for English riding was sleeker, smaller, not so bulky or heavy or ugly. And it helped him be closer with his horse, able to feel every movement, and able to communicate through it far better. Sure, it would require more balance and coordination, but that just meant it required more skill to learn - and who didn't want to prove that they had more skill? Besides, the horses were treated far better, he quite often saw that the Western riders hardly brushed their horses, just barely enough to make sure they weren't caked in dirt, and some did quite a lot of kicking and using the split reins as a whip while training. He didn't subscribe to the idea of keeping the horses cooped up all day and only taking them out for training - he made sure that both of his horses had plenty of time in a vast pasture, Nightstorm was in one now. His favourite argument, though, was that it was simply more enjoyable. Flying through the air, over a tall fence, or perhaps a water jump during cross country was a great, weightless feeling. And being able to show off the precision and poise of a horse during dressage, as well as the bond he had with his horses throughout each event, and the versatility that both horse and rider had.

As Rafael pondered whether to just walk off without another word, the owner appeared, following the rider that had fetched him. He greeted the man warmly, referring to him as 'Cody' - so Rafael now knew the stranger's name. Then, the owner stopped, seeing Rafael was there.
"Ah, and I see you've already met Rafael. One of our top trainers, haven't seen anyone quite so dedicated - aside from myself of course."
Rafael smiled warmly at the owner - the first time he'd smiled since interacting with the stranger - but didn't say anything. Not that he would have been able to, as the owner rambled on, placing a hand on Cody's shoulder, intending to lead him around as he asked whether Cody had been shown around yet, and that he should see the horses he could be working with - "None of our other Western trainers have quite got the time to work with them at the moment." was a quote that Rafael rolled his eyes at, and he decided to take his opportunity to leave.
"See you around." Rafael said, quietly, directing it at the owner who didn't quite seem to hear him, and then he signalled to Destiny to start moving again. The pair walked off, out of the tacking up bay area, down a slightly sloped trail to where some of the outdoor arenas were. This was a cluster of three, two of them set up for different disciplines - barrel racing and a show jumping circuit - while the third was plain, though did have letters at various points along the fence. This third one was the he'd be using for a little Dressage training with the Friesian.

[bronc]

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

His attention was drawn away from the man and his mare by the light thudding of boots on the concrete floor. He turned his head slightly, though when he caught sight of the man walking towards them, trailed by the rider who had gone off to find him a few minutes ago, he fully turned to face him, outstretching his arm to meet the man's handshake. "Cody Woodhouse?" The owner inquired with a broad smile, one that Cody noticed was sincere, not because he had to. Cody was a man who believed in first impressions, that the first few things you did when meeting a new person were crucial, would play a big part in how you interacted with that person in the future. He was one to form opinions on somebody quickly. More often than not, his opinions stuck, his conclusions made in those first few minutes turning out to be true. Over the course of the past four or so years, Cody had met with dozens of owners. As he returned the man's handshake, which he'd noticed was strong; you could tell a lot more about a person from a handshake than anything they said, his father had always preached, mirroring his smile as best he could now, which felt forced on his end, he decided that he quite liked this man, something he was a little surprised by but was a relief nonetheless. He had worked under a handful of owners and trainers he didn't like, and he was sure their opinion on him was the same; had spent long hours taking orders from people who he was sure wouldn't spit on him if he were on fire. It was an unavoidable part of being in this industry for so long, Cody had learned, something about working with horses tended to draw in a bunch of people with God complexes; if you didn't agree with their methods, their way of doing things, well you were as good as dirt to them. Some of the best owners he'd worked under, and they were few and far between, were the ones who, for the most part, left him alone. The ones who stayed out of his way, trusting that his methods would work for him, who let him do the job he was brought on to do. It was under people like those where he found the most success.

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

"Tyler Norstrom, owner of Iron Spring Stud and Training. It's good to finally meet you." Tyler's voice was bold, strong, Cody could imagine it booming off the walls of the barn.

"The same for you, sir," Cody answered, the words themselves taking a toll as he put on an elated front, one so thin he was sure Tyler would see through it, but if he did, he didn't mention it, most likely, Cody thought, chalking it up to the prolonged trip he had been through. Tyler seemed to start to continue on, but paused when he noticed Rafael standing to the side, a warm smile soon taking up his face. "Ah, and I see you've already met Rafael. One of our top trainers, haven't seen anyone quite so dedicated - aside from myself of course." Cody turned, noticing the man's- Rafael's- beaming smile while Tyler bragged on him. "Seems I have," he said, meeting his eyes for a moment with a tight smile before Tyler's hand on his shoulder, followed by "Let me show you around the place" whisked him away, leaving behind the other trainer. We'll give you the tour first, let you meet the other trainers, then you can meet some of the horses you'll be working with. Some of them have unfortunately been left sitting for a little while. None of our other western trainers have quite got the time to work with them at the moment." Cody caught the eyeroll at the last comment, but he chose to ignore it; it was all his muddled, sleep-deprived brain could do to keep up with Tyler. He barely heard the other trainer's last comment as he began to walk away. "But, I'm sure you'll have no problem getting them back into working shape," Tyler continued. "No, shouldn't be a problem, sir."

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"

Entering the arena, Rafael made sure the gate was closed and locked, then he pulled himself up into Destiny's saddle. Though there was a mounting block, he much preferred getting on from the floor. While he started a warm up, taking a few laps around the arena in walk and both sitting and rising trot, then working on a few 10m and 20m circles that started and ended at certain letters, he couldn't help but think about the tour that the owner, Tyler, would be giving the new trainer, Cody.
He very much liked the owner, having met him for the first time years ago when he bought Nightstorm and moved from his original equestrian centre - which was more focused on lessons - to here, a proper training centre. Most of what he'd learnt was from here - plus some from visits from prestigious trainers and competition riders. One day, Rafael thought, he was going to be a very well-known name in the equestrian world. More so than he was currently, which was just regional.

While working on teaching Destiny to halt at exactly X - the very centre of the arena - Rafael wondered why he hadn't been asked to train one of the unworked horses. Granted, it had been Tyler that had encouraged him to take in Destiny, being a rescue horse, to work with. Maybe that was why. The other horses had been worked before and weren't rescued, just out of work currently. There was still a way to go with his Friesian. Rafael knew he shouldn't, but he started thinking about how good it would feel to have Destiny competition-ready - even at a low level - before Cody had any of the other horses competition-ready. Maybe it wouldn't do any harm to think like that - after all, there was nothing at stake, and the other trainer didn't have to know that Rafael was pitting himself against him.

Realising that he'd been lost in thought a little too long when his leg made contact with the fence of the arena - Destiny having decided to take a wander around the edge of the arena while she didn't have any direction - Rafael refocused. How embarrassing. At least there weren't any other trainers around to see that, but also, maybe it would look deliberate? Somehow?
He started again, a few more 20m circles in both working trot and working canter, and then working with both gaits between different letters across the arena and down the long side of it. It was mostly just for getting used to different 'moves' that were typically on a dressage test, working on the footwork, figuring it was best to get those nailed down before making a practice run of a proper test.