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....Denver Wimberly......
........Female...........
.......Nineteen.....
.Location ;; Barn/Arena.
.......Tags ;; Open.....
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The young brunette hummed to herself as she brushed out the bay's coat until it practically shone. Boaz's ears were to the side and his head was hanging lazily down. "Thought we might do a little barrel work today, nothing too crazy or difficult," she said outloud to the gelding. She got to work picking out his hooves and brushing his thick mane and tail. Once she was satisfied with her grooming job, she began tacking the gelding up, starting with a blue and black Navajo saddle blanket and on top of that, her old barrel saddle. It wasn't the shiniest or newest saddle in the tack room, but it would work for just a little laid-back practice. Next came the cinch, and she let him breath out before she pulled it up. Breastplate, boots, and headstall and she was done. She took the reins and gave a slight tug, and Boaz followed faithfully behind her. They made their way to the arena with ease, and lucky for them, three barrels were already set up in the cloverleaf pattern. "That's convenient, isn't it boy?" she asked and laughed. Denver led Boaz over to the mounting block, and she checked the cinch one last time, before placing her foot in the saddle and mounting, landing softly in the saddle like she had been taught. "Maybe another day, we can do some roping, she said, and patted his neck, before they began a lazy walk along the fence.
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┏....................┓
....Matthew Caverly......
..........Male...........
........Nineteen.....
...Location ;; Arriving.
.......Tags ;; Open.....
┖....................┚
As the sun had begun its ascent over the rolling landscape, a light blue Toyota Tundra could be seen maneuvering down the country roads. Inside was Matthew, and in the passenger seat was his trusty "navigator", Dakota. The windows were rolled down and Dakota had his head out the window, tongue flapping in the wind. Matthew reached over to scratch the mutt's neck, and he turned to look at him. Matthew chuckled. "Don't worry bud, we're almost there," he assured the dog, and he went back to sticking his head out the window. A week had passed since he had first come to Fox Hill, and he was already loving the atmosphere. Plus, they had a cross country course, so that was a bonus. At the old barn he had been riding at, he had to trailer his horses a good fifteen minutes away to a local course, which was a hassle. He planned on taking Maximus out on the course today, he was itching to jump.
A few minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of Fox Hill. He parked the truck, and let out Dakota, and they both walked to the barns. They were greeted by the soft nickers of the horses, and he walked over to Max's stall. The dark bay gelding stuck his head out over the Dutch door and nosed him for treats. "Sorry bud, I haven't got anything for you," he said with a chuckle. He unbolted the stall door, grabbed the leather halter and slipped it over Max's head, and led him out of the stall and into the cross-ties. He got right to work, brushing him and then decking him out in his cross country tack.