New horse, new person, old secrets {OPEN}

[Temperance Ann Brown]

Spirit was well, high-spirited. He had good ground manners, but trotted in place and trotted circles around Temperance whenever he was in a new environment. They had just gotten to Pinewood Stables and Temperance needed to get Spirit settled in. She had Winnie with her too, her Saint Benard. Winnie loved horses. She was the size of a small pony herself. She had walked straight into Spirits stall and fell asleep in the corner, as usual. At their old barn, whenever Temperance couldn't find Winnie, she would always be in someones stall.

Come on Spirit, calm down. Temperance rubbed Spirits forehead trying to calm him down. He calmed down a little, just enough to be led in his stall. Winnie looked up, sighed, and walked to the stall door and laid down just outside the stall and fell right back asleep.

Temperance closed the stall door a little, just enough so Spirit wouldn't get out, not that he would try anyway. She started taking off his books and blanket and just folded them up and put them in the corner. His coat was a little ragged from the blanket rubbing on it so she decided to groom him. She had brought the grooming kit into the stall with her. Spirit loved to be groomed, and Temp loved grooming him.

New place Spirit. We need to keep this place. It's a new start. And we both know we need it. Away from my parents, the bad memories.....my mother. Temp could feel her eyes watering so she stopped talking for a little bit and just concentrated on brushing his mane and tail. It was always so knotted.

Temp leaned over to pick up Spirit foot to clean it out. Spirit sniffed her lower back, where her shirt had lifted up and Temp giggled. Spirit did that everytime and it never failed to tickle. After she cleaned one of Spirits hooves, she stood up and pulled down her shirt and her hand ran over her scar that ran up her back where her spine is. She moved onto the other hooves.

[torres]

A shrill shriek of a whinny echoed through the stable followed by the clattering of hooves and irritated snorting as a young thoroughbred fought his handler for no reason other than the fact that he was a five year old race horse and was throwing a temper tantrum. He was big and black, and certainly a sight to behold. The white foam of sweat was building up on his coat as he did everything within his power to do anything but what his handler wanted him to do. He danged to the side and lurched forward, rearing in the process, his powerful forelegs flailing in the air, and his big brown eyes wide with the challenge that he was.

He wasn't a mean horse... not really anyway. He was big and stubborn, and when he knew what he wanted he would do everything he possibly could do to get that. He was definitely pretty to look at, but throw in the personality of a racehorse, and he was hell to handle, especially for someone of jockey height. Tristan Morgan was all too skilled at handling horses like this one, but his mere 5'3" stature lended aid to the horse's cause. That was why, despite the young horse's gelding status he was forced to use a stud chain. Anyone who knew the horse known as Kamikaze Airplane knew that there was only one thing he ever wanted to do, and that was run. If given the chance he would run until all four of his legs broke and he was completely paralyzed... it was Tristan's job to train that out of him, and it was no easy task.

As sharp jerk on the lead brought the horse back down onto all fours, but he still danced about, holding his head high and pawing at the ground fiercely. It was a good thing Tristan had a lot of experience in working with a horse that tried to intimidate his handler into letting him have his way, otherwise, Kaze would have been off and running a long time ago. It wasn't uncommon for each of the three jockeys at Pinewood to end up getting injured somehow every day, and when working with Kaze it was definitely expected, so the blood seeping through Tristan's shirt sleeve was no surprise to anyone who knew the pair, though to a stranger the blood combined with the horse's tantrum would be of great concern.

Tristan tightened his grip on the lead and added pressure to the chain across the top of the horse's muzzle, forcing his head down to an acceptable level, not budging an inch in his demand for the horse to settle down. Beruhigen Sie sich Kaze he growled in German to the horse, not even realizing he wasn't speaking in English. I'm getting sick of this. He added switching back to English in his heavily British accent. He spoke so many languages he couldn't even keep track of them all. Spanish, English, German, Russian, French... you name it, he probably spoke it.

For a brief moment the horse seemed to calm, but it was probably just to catch his breath. He stood there legs splayed apart, head low, nostrils flaring and sides heaving. His whole body was soaked in sweat, but he wasn't done yet. Oh no, there was no doubt in Tristan's mind that a second wind was coming. The big horse seemed to be watching him with narrowed eyes, studying him, waiting for him to let his guard down just a tiny bit so that he could take advantage of it. He was a cunning horse and even the best horseman would have a hard time handling him any better than Tristan was.

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[Temperance Ann Brown]

Spirit jumped and his hoof ran across Temperances hand and almost stomped on her foot. Her hand was scratched, but not bleeding, thank goodness. She didn't do too well with blood. She stood up and rubbed Spirits neck. Spirit looked like he saw a ghost. He scared easily. Temperance popped her head out of the stall and saw Winnie standing there staring at this unruly Thoroughbred. It was beautiful. He acted bigger than his size. Spirit and the other horse were around the same size. Spirit tried popping his head out of the stall too but Temp pushed him back into the stall. She closed the door and locked it and put the hoof pick in her back pocket and wiped her hands on her already dirty jeans.

You stay here Winnie. She told her Saint Benard. Her dog had never been hurt by a horse and she didn't wanna take the chance now. The horse was a little past Spirits stall and she walked to the Thoroughbred and it's owner. The horse was dancing in place, just like Spirit does. The handler was kind of short, like a jockey should be. She had never thought of racing horses, she didn't really like the sport in the first place, and she was kind of tall. Yeah, she liked to go, and so did Spirit. But neither of them like runing around a circle. They both loved to jump.

The horse's handler didn't look like he was from America. He looked British maybe. He was kind of cute, too. Temperance wasn't picky to begin with.

The horse was flipping out, yes, as does every horse in their life. But the handler seemed to have him under control, kind of.

She cleared her throat and spoke. Um, Hello? Would you like some help? She was kind of hesitant. She herself didn't like people helping her. But it was her first day here and she didn't want to make any enemies this soon.

[torres]

After the stare down had lasted for a little while, Kaze's head shot up to it's natural height, his ears pricked forward, and his hooves returned to their normal standing position, making him look like the perfect gentleman, as if nothing had been going on at all. Tristan knew better though... Kaze had an audience he hadn't seen before, that was the only time he acted like a saint. Jackass he muttered under his breath to the horse... they had a love hate relationship most of the time, but in a way they were a lot like one another.

Tristan was so ADD he couldn't focus on anything for more than a minute or two unless it involved strenuous exercise. He'd been kicked out of every school within 50 miles of where he had lived in England because he simply couldn't focus and was always being disruptive. His parents had tried to get him to take medication, but he never remembered, and it was too hard to keep track of him to make sure he took it. When he started training to be a jockey, possibly one of the most strenuous horse related jobs in existence, he found a temporary cure to the inability to pay attention to any one thing.

Kaze was just insane. Unless you worked him for at least an hour at a full gallop he would be hell the rest of the day. He would throw a fit in his stall, kicking the walls and door, whinnying irritably, and making attempts at biting anyone who walked by. But once he was on the track he was all business and would run smoothly and perfectly. Of course, getting him to stop running was an entirely different story, but even so. Once he got worn out on the track he would behave himself in his stall. Racing was saving both of them on a daily basis.

He turned towards the voice from behind him, and smiled. The girl was taller than him... but he was used to that. Being only 5'3" made a lot of people taller than him, but it had no effect on Tristan. He had to be short to race, and he had to race to live a normal lifestyle, so he was okay with being short, even though Brody and Andrew's 5'10" towered over him. I think I've got it sorted. he said with a certain cheeriness. Thanks though. I'm Tristan. he held out his hand to the girl, as chipper as always. If there was a way to get Tristan down, no one had found it yet. He was always in such high spirits people often wondered about him. But that was just who he was. He had so much energy he didn't know what to do with it, so when he wasn't riding, he channeled it all into being chipper, which really made him quite agreeable.

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[Temperance Ann Brown]

The horse the boy was holding seemed to want to run free. Run until he couldn't run anymore. But, the boy, who introduced himself as Tristan, wasn't having that. He was holding fast. He was even able to hold out his hand to shake Temperances hand. Who did that these days? She hadn't been offered a handshake in ages. She smiled a little bit, but shook his hand out of politeness.

My name is Temperance. I just got here today. She told the boy. Spirit was pawing at her stall. Something she did when she wanted Temps attention. She rolled her eyes. Spoled brat She said aloud, smirking.

Tristan said he didn't need any help, but she still stood there, ready to help if he needed it. She's been in the situation where she didn't need help at first, but the situation got out of control and she got hurt. But, she didn't think the boy would ever need any help. But, you can't be too careful around horses. Especially thoroughbreds like the one before her.

She loved thoroughbreds. They seemed perfect to her. The conformation. The personality. Yeah, they weren't the calmest breed of horse, but they were proud. If they just stood there, you could tell. They were fast and they loved it. There were those few thoroughbreds who might not have been bred good that didn't have the desire to go fast. But, overall, thoroughbreds loved speed.

She herself loved mustangs. Even the domesticated ones. Spirit was born in a barn, Temperance was there. But you can tell in a mustangs eyes, that they love freedom. Spirit on the other hand, loved but up close, and sometimes too personal. He hated being out in the fields by himself. Horses travel in herds, and that instinct has always stuck by Spirit.

[torres]

Horses had always been his passion. From the time he was little up until now, he's always been a horse person. But he wasn't like most people who were into horses. He first showed interest in the equine world when he went to the races in London at age five. Something about the powerful horses intrigued him, and even in his childish mind he was enthralled by the way the animals moved, the way their legs curled and stretched, propelling them forwards, the way their muscles rippled beneath their smooth coats, the way they held themselves, everything about them. IT was like a whole new level of life that he hadn't ever seen before. Yes, he had seen tour horses and whatnot, but these were different.

When he was 16 his parents bought him a two year old thoroughbred colt by the name Media Puzzle. They never expected him to really go anywhere with it though, just as a horse to ride, that was all. But Tristan was determined to get into the racing world. Most jockeys started training around fourteen, and here he was at 16 and never having even been on a horse before. His older brother Jason had been riding as a jockey for four years, and he agreed to help Tristan when he could. Tristan wasn't about to let anything put a stop to his dream though, and it wasn't long before he had Puzzle out at the track and was training the horse and himself to race. He didn't have any idea if he was any good at it, he didn't even know if he was fast, but that didn't make any difference to him. They worked long and hard out on that track, often times being the first ones there and the last ones to go, but it really paid off in the end.

By the time he was a three year old and he was 17, he was ready to race, in Tristan's opinion, and Jason agreed. Of course, Tristan couldn't get a license to ride until he was 18, so Jason was going to be the one to ride him. However, a week before Puzzle's race, Jason was in an accident on the track when his horse went down on top of him, breaking his neck and killing him instantly. The tragedy hit the family hard, his dad started working more, and his mom went into depression. Still unwilling to give up, Tristan forged a jockey's license under the name Damien Oliver. They were the underdogs for sure, no one had ever heard of Media Puzzle or Damien Oliver, but once again, Tristan wasn't going to let that put a stop to his dreams. He told them that he was Jason's brother whom had been away for a while, but came back to run this race in memory of him.

The Melbourne Cup wasn't the sort of race most people would use as the maiden, but it was the one Jason had selected as the best chance he had of winning. They were boxed in the middle of the pack through the race up until the home turn where they got just enough opening to power through. They won that race by a good margin, and in the interview afterward he had a hard time holding it together, but managed. Now naturally, the racing world started looking into Damien Oliver more closely after that race, and Tristan knew he and Puzzle had to get out of London before someone found out that there was no Damien Oliver.

So he and Puzzle ended up in the States where they were discovered by a certain Mr. Fently who took an interest in both horse and rider. Due to being a very high level trainer, Fently didn't really have time to train a new horse and a new rider, so he sent them to Pinewood West Virginia, to be in an apprenticeship under Anthony Lovasz, a formerly world renowned jockey that Fently had trained several years ago. He figured that Anthony and the low key town would do Tristan some good, so off they went.

It was nearly a year now since Tristan had arrived in Pinewood... but his old fashioned British habits hadn't worn off. Sure... most people didn't shake hands, especially young people like him... but Tristan had been raised in the house of a gentleman, and those things which his parents had drilled into his head had stuck, even if it didn't seem like he was ever paying attention. Just as she finished saying she was new here, Kaze decided to take advantage of the situation and with a squeal, jerked back, practically wrenching Tristan's arm out of it's socket. Really annoyed at that point, Tristan turned around and gave the ornery horse a sharp smack on the shoulder with the end of the lead, earning an irritated look of displeasure from the horse, followed by a bob of his head, submitting to Tristan. He never liked resorting to punishment, but with horses like Kaze, you often had to.

My apologies. He said turning back to face Temperance again, Pleasure meeting you. Where did you move from? Of course he was simply engaging in conversation, not trying to pry into her life or anything. He was a friendly guy, what could he say? He liked talking to people, even though he was quite well known for changing the subject mid sentence because of his ADD, but there was nothing wrong with that was there? Okay so... maybe there was, but it wasn't like he could help it, and it always made conversation so much more entertaining.

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