Phase 3

The rain was warm. Its steady rush filled the air, there was the pitter patter of it hitting the wooden shelter, the occasional gurgling of running water.

They had all the time in the world. He was glad to wait out the rain in their nice, dry shelter. Never had he been too great at remembering everything and so he'd forgotten any gear to protect him from the rain. His mount would have been fine either way, so he chose the more comfy option.

There was an old lantern here, left purposefully for passersbys who might need it. A well worn, dry blanket was stashed alongside it. It was perfect to huddle up with. Thankfully the local ranger took her duty of keeping such shelters in shape and stocked seriously. Not many needed them at all, but they were mandated and deemed worthwhile still.

It was a nice spot to be. His reddish mare was standing not far away, relaxing to the gentle lullaby of the rain. He had settled on the ground, the lantern in front of him. Its light flickered here and there and spread a sense of warmth.

He looked at the small flame, thinking about this and that. Most importantly, how this scene wouldn't have been possible a while ago.

He lifted his head to look at his hoofed companion. She wasn't dozing off, but feeling comfortable enough to rest a bit. 

Although not that golden in coat, he had named her Goldie. Later his brother had given him a quick lesson on how gold could indeed be orange or even red toned depending on the metals it was mixed with.

That hadn't solved the minor issue of finding a registered name for Goldie, but he liked the extra lore.

Oddly enough, he could remember the day he learned that too. It had been when Goldie came into their home. She had been an anxious mess, making for quite the first impression. She'd been trembling from anxiety, overwhelmed by everything going on. Still, he'd named her Goldie right away, leading to the lore dump. It just was a fitting name.

Back then she'd been so claustrophobic that even canopies were terrifying her. And now, well, she was under a wooden shelter and free to go if she felt it was too much. She had followed him under it without much trouble. Goldie had become more confident and at ease, besides occasional bad days or off moments, only trailers still gave her real trouble.

Connor was sure that's how it all started. Tying her up, forcing her to stay or something like that. It was third hand information- told by the vet, who had only dealt with the aftermath and that had surrendered her after the former owner had dumped her on them. Then recorded by the rescue and so on. The former owner had been incredibly vague, but Connor got the gist and was pretty sure they'd forced Goldie into a trailer and locked her in when she panicked.

He didn't want to imagine her being that scared.

The more relieved he when he saw her feel so much more at ease now.

Goldie was in a much better state overall. He was proud of how far they'd come. Her coat was as glossy as silk, just like it was meant to be. She’d regained some healthy weight and muscle and was already strong enough to go on medium length hacks regularly and without any issues. She dared stepping into more enclosed spaces and even felt relaxed there, if she wasn't alone. He was sure that would improve in time as well. And even if it didn't, she'd already come so far.

Despite much thinking, he was starting to feel a little sleepy. The atmosphere really called for it. It was very tempting. But going for a nap with an untethered horse nearby that wasn't yet sure to stay or return on recall wasn't the best idea. Should he start thinking about some code he was supposed to write instead? Maybe it's quickly approaching deadline? That sounded about right.

He looked at Goldie again. He was optimistic she'd learn the recall soon, with all their training. But soon wasn't now and that was okay. All in due time.