- Meredith slows Rye to a walk, patting his neck appreciatively. On occasion he can be quite lazy this time of morning. In general, Merry prefers to take Cherokee out first thing. But today, as the buckskin hasn't gotten much exercise lately, she chose to saddle him and get some exercise in before the heat of the day kicks in. If he gets too sweaty, Meredith is going to have to pause her schedule and give him a good scrub with soap and water, so she elects to keep him at a slower gait. Crow is the true pain to bathe, as his pelt is so dark it is hard to see what is clean and what is not.
Meredith is snapped out of her thoughts by a voice. It takes her a heartbeat to register what he has said and holler back a reply. "I'm game, so long as we don't take too long," she replies, wheeling Catcher in the Rye around and trotting him out of the ring to where the clump of others stand. "Where are we off to?" Meredith has seen all of the riders before, though she knows the girls better than the guys. When you spend all of your life around animals that can't reply when you speak, it can be difficult to socialize. But she still finds herself with a social life, sort of, and more than three friends. So that, at least, is a success.