A continuation of this thread.
How do people do this all day long?! Seirei wondered as she struggled to lift her seat as she practiced riding.
Her muscles burned fiercely with the exertion despite the fact that she hadn't been riding for long. Was she doing something wrong? Seirei suspected that she had to be. Otherwise, how could everyone, young, and old alike manage to ride for bells at a time every day? Were they all just incredibly strong? It didn't seem likely.
As Seirei rode in small circles to practice turning her mount, Thunder followed close behind. He tossed his head, holding it high as he pranced around behind them. Seirei smiled at his antics. He looked much the way a young boy might after his first success at some big accomplishment. The colt was clearly enjoying himself, and it was probably good practice for him. Someday, when he was old enough to be ridden, she would be riding him in small circles like this, to get him used to the proper requests involved.
That was for another time, though. It would be a long time before Thunder was ready to be trained. And for that, Seirei was grateful. She hoped that when the time came, she would know enough to be the one to train him. Or at least, to help train him. As his bondmate, it was only fitting. Seirei felt another set of eyes on her as well, and this one was much more critical of her efforts.
Out of the corner of her eye, Seirei could see Kairi watching her from a distance. She seemed to be amused as well, but Seirei got the feeling that the mare's amusement came at her expense. It reinforced the feeling that she had to be doing something wrong. After a few more chimes, Seirei pressed her right calf firmly against Wildfire's side while turning her head to the left, and guided him back towards Naiya.
"What am I doing wrong?" she asked once she got close enough that she wouldn't have to raise her voice to be heard clearly.
"It has to be something."
If not, I'm too weak to ride.
Seirei hoped that she was doing something wrong. If not...then she was even more useless and pathetic than she'd feared.
.
.
.
How do people do this all day long?! Seirei wondered as she struggled to lift her seat as she practiced riding.
Her muscles burned fiercely with the exertion despite the fact that she hadn't been riding for long. Was she doing something wrong? Seirei suspected that she had to be. Otherwise, how could everyone, young, and old alike manage to ride for bells at a time every day? Were they all just incredibly strong? It didn't seem likely.
As Seirei rode in small circles to practice turning her mount, Thunder followed close behind. He tossed his head, holding it high as he pranced around behind them. Seirei smiled at his antics. He looked much the way a young boy might after his first success at some big accomplishment. The colt was clearly enjoying himself, and it was probably good practice for him. Someday, when he was old enough to be ridden, she would be riding him in small circles like this, to get him used to the proper requests involved.
That was for another time, though. It would be a long time before Thunder was ready to be trained. And for that, Seirei was grateful. She hoped that when the time came, she would know enough to be the one to train him. Or at least, to help train him. As his bondmate, it was only fitting. Seirei felt another set of eyes on her as well, and this one was much more critical of her efforts.
Out of the corner of her eye, Seirei could see Kairi watching her from a distance. She seemed to be amused as well, but Seirei got the feeling that the mare's amusement came at her expense. It reinforced the feeling that she had to be doing something wrong. After a few more chimes, Seirei pressed her right calf firmly against Wildfire's side while turning her head to the left, and guided him back towards Naiya.
"What am I doing wrong?" she asked once she got close enough that she wouldn't have to raise her voice to be heard clearly.
"It has to be something."
If not, I'm too weak to ride.
Seirei hoped that she was doing something wrong. If not...then she was even more useless and pathetic than she'd feared.
.
.
.