- - - Gerend David Lowerton

Stupid horse, he wanted to gruff at Hothead. But then Hothead would only smile at him, and continue poking at sore wounds. Not that Gerend would admit he’d let someone in enough to hurt him. No, he was content on rebuilding his stone walls. He was currently back into the silent phase, which had been harder than the last time he’d forced himself. He’d found himself speaking more and more. He’d clamped down on it, though he still avoided other people, just in case. He finished brushing the stallion’s broad ebony back and grabbed the saddle pad and placed it on him, leaning against him.

He was tugging the bridle onto Hothead’s finely chiseled face when his ears went up. Which was a normal occurrence for him, Gerend just quickly finished buckling the harness in place. But when he started sniffing loudly Gerend sighed. That could mean only one thing. Someone or something was moving through the barn. He often wondered, since Hothead was normally rather smart why he didn’t get used to random people passing by day after day. But it was always the same, someone new and he HAD to see them. Gerend placed a hand on Hothead’s chest, warning him to stay back. He didn’t look over his shoulder as he heard them pass by. They were probably off to get on their own horse. Who probably wasn’t trying to still sniff them with his head stuck out the door, like the black stallion was currently doing. Gerend ran a hand down his legs to make sure the flighty stallion hadn’t kicked something and bruised himself. Nope, he was as in perfect working condition as he could be.

Then Hothead nickered lightly, a joyful sound he used when thanking someone for giving him what he wanted. Gerend straightened at the same time a girl spoke. He bit his lip, resisted sighing and answering and turned. She was small, as everyone was to him, but it reminded him of someone else. Thank goodness she didn’t look like her or he might have had a heart attack. Her arms barely reached the top of the stall door, which since Hothead was a large stallion was slightly taller than the others. He’d never seen anyone like her in the barn before, so she might just be wandering, new, or normally a night visitor. But he doubted that. The clothes she was wearing also helped enforce that idea, she was definitely not thinking about riding in that was she? Then again he didn’t really have experience with people, much less the opposite sex, maybe it was the new riding gear He almost smiled at his internal joke, but he was currently focusing on staring at her. Her clothes weren’t jabbing the same, it helped.

Hothead stepped forward excited at the new prospect of either teasing or biting someone. He was currently doing the former, fortunately. She obviously expected an answer to her statement. Hothead tossed his head as Gerend tried to grab the bridle, just in case. He nodded in answer to her statement. He simply acknowledged that he’d hear her and agreed. He was a guy of silence, whenever used two words when one or less could get the point across just the same.



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That's what they've always said.

- - - Gerend David Lowerton

Gerend’s obvious cold shoulder treatment seemed to be failing him as of late. Either the girl didn’t notice or she was trying to bother him. She was humming and watching him, those eyes making him wonder what she, she obviously didn’t like it. He ran a hand through Hothead’s black mane. She even began to hum as she watched. He wondered what the tune was and sighed, quietly. She was also frowning at him. Frankly, he was admired at her ability not to tell him off for being so rude. But then again, she hadn’t had a chance. Hothead balked when she flicked his nose, snorting and trying to act the part of disdained royalty. Gerend couldn’t help it, he chuckled. Such a large horse was demurred by such a tiny girl. Unbeknownst to him this happened to be a change in his face, it showed a little more response.

He smiled lightly, a motion he hadn’t done in a long time when she spoke. Surprisingly, he found himself answering, “No, not much to say.” He wondered if that was a attempt at sarcasm or the truth. But wasn’t sarcasm a mean way of saying the truth? She either didn’t notice nor care because she introduced herself as Raven. Following his stony custom he only muttered, “Gerend.“ before she could ask.
He nodded and unlatched the door, his brain had latched onto the sight that she’d move a way from the door. It was the flighty part of him and if anything, he wasn’t a flyer, but a fighter. So he took it slowly, as if he was doing so absentmindedly. In fact, he was actually listening to her with a small attentive dip to his head. Just enough to notice that he wasn’t exactly blowing her off. As she continued to babble he smiled a little more broadly, this time it was edging towards a grin and not a grimace. Lonely?

“Yeah, I know.” he mentioned to both her questions, on riding and on loneliness. He wondered if she was conscious of the fact that she was beginning to follow him to the indoor arena. Somehow he didn’t really mind this, she was just talking about horses and frankly looked like she was relishing in the chance to babble her head off and, for once, he was actually listening. Even if he wasn’t offering up much, it had to be better than talking to animals. Which he would know nothing about, of course.

As she mentioned riding again he nodded and before he realized what he was saying, “I’ve got a mare you can ride if you want.” He nearly paused mid-stride. Did he just ask that? Yes, he did. And yes, he did have a nice gentle Friesian mare, but did he actually say that? He turned to face her, wondering if she would be surprised by the change as much as he was. But then again, it wasn't much, he’d said it without infliction and slowly, as if pulling at old wounds. But then again, the way she’d mentioned riding, as if it actually meant something to her pulled at Gerend’s, well, not heart but insides. He knew that feeling, so he was only offering it out of pity/kindness, right? He remembered the last time something had started this way and he no want or desire to do that one again.

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That's what they've always said.

- - - Gerend David Lowerton

And this is why he kept talking to a minimum. He’d even noticed her outfit earlier, but as she said, he wasn’t focusing completely and had forgot. A slight heat was creeping up his neck. He also balked a the ’sir’ remark. No, wasn’t that remark used for respectable people. She continued to explain, and he found he wasn’t in fact that embarrassed. She kept talking, talking about bugging him. Which he found she wasn’t, it was more of uncomfortable ness. But she kept talking and it almost helped him relax until she asked him what was wrong. Was it really that noticeable? Hothead snorted and sniffed Gerend’s head, wondering why in the world they weren’t heading to the indoor arena. Gerend placed a hand on the stallion’s neck and sighed.

He looked over at her, did she really want to know? Of course she did, he realized. In the few minutes she’d followed him he’d figured out that she said what she meant. Her large eyes were not looking at him this time. She did mumble something that he caught as if she watch him ride. He didn’t realize he was walking as he answered, “Yeah, but I wouldn’t want you put down by it. And it‘s a free barn.”
That was the closest way he could get to the truth, he almost felt the anger at himself ride up again. Instead he was debating on hoping onto Hothead and running and running, or jumping, since that was Hothead’s specialty. He smelt the soft dirt smell of the arena and hoisted himself onto Hothead with ease, hopefully avoiding anymore conversation. Then again, he could still hear her and answer, he just felt farther away and it helped cleared his head. He almost felt like telling her and that was a little too early.

He wondered why the hell it was so hard anyway? Teresa had disappeared after the masquerade dance. By then he’d been a little more than drunk, and so had she. He had a feeling that she’d really just left as she’d said she would, heading back home because she couldn’t stand school here. But he’d almost hoped that he could have made her stay. Hell, she was the reason that he himself stayed. He’d also broken one of his own strict rules with the tiny girl. Don’t let anyone in. Because they can’t hurt you then. Which he was doing great at these past few weeks. Sure he’d met others but they were able to catch his gaze and leave him alone.

He pulled Hothead to a stop and started off to the first jump, easily clearing it. He’d not jumped his stallion in weeks. But, as nothing else had for a long time, it felt right. Good to be doing this and he jumped the other. Contrary to popular belief, Gerend didn’t really control Hothead, the brute loved doing this even more than Gerend, if that was possible. So right now he was just loosely hanging onto the equine, and flying. It felt good, and he almost forgot the girl’s eyes on him. But as always, the course had to end and he pulled Hothead to a stop, aiming to turn around and begin again.

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That's what they've always said.