Dressage Days

Cassandra brushed down First Class as she waited for her turn in the arena for the dressage competition. Her red, woolen tunic and black riding pants and boots were pristine. The gold embroidery along the collar and hem of the tunic, as well as the seams of the pants were enough to show off but not enough to draw attention from any of the horses she rode. 

First Class tossed his head and she reached up to stroke the white mark between his eyes. “I know, not your usual competition, but we’ve been working on this and you need to exercise control off the trails as well.” 

The classic champagne roan snorted and stomped his front foot, his small white stockings getting covered in dirt. 

Cassandra gave him a look of both annoyance and amusement as she knelt down, brushing him off. “That won’t get you out of this. If you decide to roll in the mud or leaves just before entering the arena, I’m going to ride you that way. I hope you understand that.” 

First Class huffed in annoyance but didn’t make any further attempt to get his glistening coat dirty. 

Cassandra stood and dusted off her own clothing before making sure her curly, red hair was secured back in a tightly braided ponytail and her small, red tinted black horns were polished.  

“Don’t you dare,” she murmured as she felt First Class tug against the reins she held. “We’ll run later, you’ve my word.” 

First Class signed, his roan sides shaking with exaggerated annoyance at the matter, making Cassandra chuckle as she patted his neck and offered him a treat as she regarded her surroundings. 

Whitehorse Farms was a pretty little stable, and the fall leaves made it an even more lovely prospect. The white fences were well maintained and clean, the paint fresh and sharp against the brightly colored backdrop of the nearby woods. 

A cool, autumn breeze shifted the leaves around and First Class danced impatiently. The colder weather had all her horses wound up, which made for a fun competition. Perhaps not the most precise of competitions, but this competition was more for testing new horses and putting them through their paces than anything. And First Class was new at dressage to a point she’d considered not riding him in it at all. 

She smiled and mounted the classic champagne roan stallion, allowing him a moment of prancing under her before bringing him under control. He was spirited but not blatantly disobedient or even particularly difficult to work with. He was just better suited to cross country in many ways, but he had the skills to do so much more. 

The arena was neat and tidy as she brought him up the middle and saluted the judges before circling him out and taking him through his paces. She switched up paces and leads as she circled the arena with First Class. 

He handled the trot well, and the figure eight with it beautifully. He stumbled some on the lead change, but he was green enough she wasn’t truly concerned. They’d learn to understand each other soon enough, and he’d settle into the pacing. He just wanted to rush everything right now, and for him to be truly a good endurance racer he needed patience as much as strength and stamina. So patience he would learn. 

She guided him along a half-school at a reasonable execution of an extended trot. She was a bit surprised First Class had gone along with it as it was something they’d not actually practiced. More she’d seen if he’d do it and then let it go in favor of laying a great deal more foundation. She wasn’t sure if it was him misreading her cue and them getting lucky, or if the roan stallion had decided to show off for the crowd. She wasn’t particularly upset either way, but did signal him out of it as soon as the pass was done. She didn’t want him overdoing it either, and undertrained or half-trained moves were risky for both of them. She didn’t mind hitting the dirt, but she certainly didn’t want him injured. 

First Class huffed in annoyance at this, but listened. His muscles were tense and he clearly wanted to GO but he listened for the moment. She did cut him some slack and signaled him to switch to a canter for the next few passes and around in a tight circle. That at least he enjoyed if the high step of his gait was any indication. 

He was definitely showing off, his white marked front legs and his darker hind legs displayed his steps beautifully. And given the extra care she’d taken to make sure his silky, roan lightened coat was groomed to a point it nearly gleamed, and that his long and curly classically colored tail was neat and tidy, she was certain he cut a dashing figure in the arena. 

The last few passes went well, First Class’s gait steady and mostly even. He missed a lead change and got distracted on another pass. He actually stopped to nibble at a leaf that drifted onto the arena, stopping and eating at it happily until Cassandra nudged him back into motion to complete the figure eight. 

As they finished and trotted back down the middle line to salute the judges, First Class gave a snort that was clearly his best impression of being a dragon. For all the noise, he didn’t break his stance. He just let the world know he had opinions on the matter. 

Cassandra managed not to laugh, saluting the judges and turning him so they could exit the arena. He hadn’t done badly at all, and she had a funny feeling he hadn’t completely hated the opportunity to show off, otherwise he’d have been far harder to handle. 

When they got back to the stables, Cass dismounted and patted First Class’s side, offering him a treat before starting to take off the classic champagne roan’s tack. “Well, what did you think?” 

First Class took the treat and gave her a look reminiscent of a toddler or young child who enjoyed something but was determined to hate it instead. He snorted and stomped his hooves, his white front stockings immediately getting coated in dirt. Before Cassandra could even react, he took off into the turnout and made a show of rolling in the dirt. 

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Cassandra laughed, her laugh even harder as when First Class got up he started prancing around the pen in a gait she’d taught him for dressage. She wouldn’t compete with him often in dressage, but she wagered he’d take the chance to show off again if presented correctly.