[Mounted Archery] Fish in a Barrel

"Damn cowboy, don't you look out of place?"  Brynn's tone is light, teasing as she begins to unpack.  Wyatt bristled, lowering the crown of his hat against the morning sun.  "Can you fault a guy for trying something new?"  Voice still gravelly, biting against the morning frost.  Frost crushed beneath his boots.  Still autumn, sure, but the chill had come on strong.  It coated every surface, glimmering faintly.  "With a beast like that, I don't think faulting you is out of the question."  Brynn rolled her eyes, bumped her shoulder into her friend's, and continued her unpacking.  "Good luck today."  Rough around the edges as they were, both meant well in the end.  

 

A dramatic sound, hoof against metal, drew Wyatt back to reality.  Right, they had things to do.  "If you kick me before the day even starts, we're both going to have a bad time."  He grumbled, moving to release Piri from the trailer and tether her instead.  Carefully working over the spiced mare, his movements are purposeful and skillful.  As he knew it was coming, the ill-tempered mare kicked out as he went through their grooming routine.  Plaiting a red ribbon into her sable tail, all Wyatt could do was heave a sigh.  Stepping away from flying hooves and the occasional bite, this mare was going to be the death of him.  Sunk cost fallacy, here he still was.  Dragging Piri out for archery was for Wyatt far more than it was for her, and she was going to make him regret it.  

 

Wiping his sweaty palms on almost-clean denim, Wyatt's gaze drags to the course.  It's farther in the distance-- he wouldn't dare bring Piri over until they were well within the warmup window.  No, it would be safer for everyone to keep her away from the crowd until necessary.  Still, his keen eye skates over each of the targets, one after the next.  Picking them out with a hunter's ease and precision.  Right, that's why they'd come out in the first place.  Shooting sports are his game, he just needs to hope that the hot headed spice mare would keep it together long enough to get through the course.  As if to make his point, Piri began to paw where she stood.  Disregarding her hay net and all other distractions entirely, she much preferred the ruckus.  

 

To her credit, at least she hadn't broken anything (skin or otherwise), yet today.  There was still time, however.  Wyatt leaves her tied briefly, taking a few warmup shots on a spare target within eyesight of Piri.  Watching her bald head gleam in the sun, at least she was pretty.  As for his shots?  The first carbon fiber arrow flies wide, the second high.  The Scythian bow wasn't familiar to him yet-- not the comfortable compound bow he'd taken hunting for years.  Still, rules were rules, and Wyatt had paid an entry fee to follow them.  There was no use being nervous about it now.  They would ride clean or they wouldn't.  

 

Piri and Wyatt both felt the eerie, grim calm as it washed through their systems.  Brynn delivered their number with a grin, staying well out of striking distance as Piri reached for the girl with her teeth once more.  "You need to do something about her, you know."  Brynn's tone was joking, though there was some genuine concern at its core.  Wyatt waved his friend off, slipping his exhibitor number into its clear holder.  Sliding it down over his starched shirt, straightening his hat.  As he slung his chromed saddle over the spiced mare's dark back, he let go a heavy sigh.  "We've got this, okay?  Just trust me."  Speaking to his mount and his mount alone, all he could do at this point was hope.  

 

Able to hand the mare her bit without too much incident, Wyatt allowed tentative hope to seep in.  If he trusted Piri, then maybe she'd trust him right back.  Buckles and straps fastened, heavily adorned tack gleaming in the sun.  "You don't suppose we look silly, do we?"  Chuckling under his breath, he leaned down to pat Piri's neck.  The mare, for once, softened.  Sometimes Wyatt doubted her affection, but their bond was at least strong enough for this.  Moving into the warmup ring was nerve racking to say the least, but the other riders kept a respectful distance.  It didn't prevent Piri from pinning her ears any time she perceived another horse too close, but at least they were able to move through a walk, trot, and lope with relative peace.  

 

Autumn sun melting through the remaining frost, warming their backs, this was a beautiful day for it.  Crisp air wrapped around their shoulders, everything felt more alive.  From the warmup ring, Wyatt was able to zero in on the targets more readily.  High, low, and out toward the treeline.  This was nothing he couldn't handle.  Piri on the other hand?  Only time would tell.  Two exhibitor numbers from the top, Wyatt guided his hot headed steed from the arena.  Feeling her fidget beneath the saddle, play with the bit that rest in her mouth.  The roller did its job, at least, giving Piri an outlet for her energy.  Wrapping his pale, sweaty hand around the grip of his bow, there was nothing more to do at this point.  

 

One rider ahead of him.  Piri shifting her weight, and Wyatt wasn't going to pick at her.  Let her feed off the energy around them.  Reaching down, he carefully stroked the mare's withers.  As calming for her as it was for him, he could only hope.  Scanning the spectators, he caught Brynn's eye.  She offered a crooked smile, a thumbs up.  She had already run for the class, he was the only one remaining.  Well, shit.  The judge's announcement came, the stewards swung the door open.  Piri took several massive steps to the side, balking at the squeaky gate.  Okay, not the best start, but Wyatt's firm seat was enough to hold him in place to recovery.  

 

Heels down, shoulders back.  Urging the mare forward, collecting her as they move.  Making sure his lead was correct at the lope before breaking into something faster.  Piri knew what to do.  Of course she did-- they'd trained for this.  Maybe not extensively, but they had put time in.  For as squirrely as Piri could be, she was more than ready for this.  A glint in her eye, something mean, as the true breakneck pace took over.  A dead run.  No leads, no gods, no masters-- just Piri and her running.  It's not pretty.  Not from this girlie, it never is.  But oh how fast she goes, and oh how she shines.  

 

All Wyatt can do is keep his seat sticky and watch the targets as they come.  The red and white do enough to stand out against the arena, all brown dirt and dying grass.  One after the next, the arrows fly.  He doesn't have time to look at were they land, but the solid sound of targets hit is enough.  One after the next, a satisfying thud barely loud enough to register over Piri's hooves.  No breeze to ruin his shot, nothing to correct for.  Wyatt was feeling himself, at the top of his game.  

 

The targets in the treeline were harder.  Blending in with the autumn leaves, but his gaze is keen.  Nose wrinkling as he focuses them down, one after the next.  Picking them out from the deciduous bounty, the reds in the maple leaves not quite enough to obscure his targets.  One arrow after the next, all he needed was for Piri to hold out a little longer.  Hoofbeats.  Heartbeats.  All Wyatt needed to do was remember how to breathe, and they would be okay.  

 

With the end in sight, Piri's gait begins to break.  Throwing in a half buck, getting loud.  Breathing hard into the crisp autumn chill, ears pinning to her skull.  Wyatt doesn't know exactly what she's seen, but it's enough to throw the mare off her game.  Dropping to a canter for a few strides, oh how awkward it feels.  This isn't what she's trained for, but they would use it to collect themselves once more.  Her mind staying clear was more important than a little bit of time.  Once they were properly collected once more, Wyatt let Piri take her head.  Take off.  Truly go.  

 

The home stretch of the course was a blur.  Wyatt was fairly certain he'd gotten all of the targets, and Piri had (mostly) kept it together-- that was all that mattered.  Bow slung to his back, he returns both hands to his reins.  As the crowd offered their applause, Wyatt's gaze flickered to Brynn among them.  Giving a wave and patting Piri on the neck once more, it's a run he can feel good about.  More than good.  With the little true practice they had, it was great in his eyes.  Slowing Piri to a walk and slipping through the exit gate, they would take a long walk.  Cool down, clear their heads.  Both horse and rider deserved it.