side to side {aidan}

[strawbk]

They were an entertaining couple. The young man, muscularly built, paced along the fenceline of the small holding paddock. His hands were shoved deep into his hip pockets and he kicked at the turf with one toe. Contrastly, the black and tan pit bull law sprawled out in the sunshine, baking herself on the grass and panting contentedly, looking over at the boy as if to tell him to get the ants out of his pants. Ben leaned against the sturdy wooden fence with his forearms, checking the paddock out. It was maybe a half acre, just a daytime holding pen, and had a threesided shed facing the southeast. It'd be perfect for the gelding, at least for the time being.

Something about the horse had caught his attention, and it wasn't just his unique appearance. Ben had been down near the Mexican border just a few days prior, at a seminar/workshop. He figured it was a good idea, seeing as he was new to the American farrier business. But while he'd been down there, he'd met the horse. The gelding hadn't been very big, or impressive, or good-looking. He was plain as plain could be, but his attitude was attractive, and Ben couldn't put his finger on it. Perhaps it was the way the one-eyed gelding just couldn't give a flying fuck about anyone or anything that had screamed 'I dare you' to Ben.

He knew almost nothing about the bay, only that he was about eight and had been living in Mexico for seven of those years. He hadn't been treated badly, but nor had he ever been loved or cared about. He was nobody's pet, he was a working animal. A working animal that was starting to protest his work. He'd gone for the rock bottom price of 500 US dollars. But even that much money was foolish for Ben to spend, considering the fact that he'd never so much as touched the horse before.

A GMC truck towing a two-horse trailer bumped up the gravel driveway and came to a gentle stop in front of the paddock. Ben quickly strode forward, leaving the pit bull lounging in the grass where she'd been tethered to the paddock fence. "Drop off for Ben King?"

[/color] Asked a short, heavyset man with a cheerful face, as he hopped out of the driver's side. Ben nodded eagerly, signing the shipment papers. "Was he good?"[/color] The young man asked, his blue-green eyes moving to the grey and white unmarked trailer. All was quiet from inside. "A pain in the butt to load,"[/color] the shipper admitted. "Not mean, he just practically sat down and made us push him in."[/color]

The two unlocked the back ramp, lowering it to the grown. The average-sized gelding stood quietly, one hind leg cocked. Ben went around to the jockey door, opening it up and stepping into the trailer with the bay. The horse snuffed in his direction once, but otherwise didn't moved. Untying the animal's lead, Ben tugged gently on his halter to back him down the ramp. The horse didn't move. He leaned against the gelding's chest to push him backwards, clucking softly. The gelding held fast, shooting a sideways glance at the boy as if to say, I'll move when I damn well please.

"He didn't want to go in, and now he doesn't want to come out. Need a hand?"[/color] The driver offered. Just at that moment, Ben gave the horse's shoulder a huge shove. Thrown off balance, the gelding placed a hind hoof on the ramp to steady himself. Then, as if admitting defeat, he snorted and backed down the ramp, casting an uninterested look at his surroundings with his left eye before plunging his muzzle towards the nearest tuft of grass.

The trailer was shut up and with a wave, the shipper drove off. Ben tugged the lead rope to get the gelding to lift his head, but the bay just pinned his ears back irritably, stomped a front hoof, and continued to munch away. "Hey. Come on, lazy."[/color] Ben scolded gently, grabbing the noseband of the red halter and forcibly hauling the horse's head up. Indignantly, the gelding let out an earsplitting squeal, as though Ben had just plunged a knife into his ribs, and bucked out with his hind legs, turning his head to glower at the boy from his one eye before grudgingly allowing himself to be led into the pasture. Ben unclipped the lead shank, opting to keep the halter on the horse for now.

He'd be a tough nut to crack. Ben hadn't ever met a horse quite as indifferent as him before. He was so uncaring. Clearly, he felt no attachment to humans, but he wasn't going to go out of his way to be aggressive towards them. It was as though they were oxpecker birds on the back of a giant buffalo, so insignificant they went unnoticed.

"Maybe he just needs some time to settle in, hey Jinx?"[/color] Hearing her name, the pit bull got to her paws, staring up at Ben in blind, somewhat stupid, adoration. He knelt next to the dog, rubbing her ears gently, and set his eyes on his new horse. Damn, a horse of his own now. The plain gelding was nothing Ben would have wanted in a horse, and yet something, somehow, had screamed out to him when he'd laid eyes on the gelding down in Mexico. He'd had to buy him.

Straightening up, he went to approach the horse again. As Ben neared his head, the gelding turned, presenting his rump to the human. Sauntering out of the way, Ben approached his head again, but once more the horse pivoted away from him. "Hey you, come say hi."[/color] He clicked softly to the horse, who promptly ambled off away from the horse towards the fenceline. Briefly, he touched noses with the bemused pit bull, then pinned his ears flat to the nape of his neck and clacked his teeth, making a move to bite her. Jinx flinched too late, but the horse's jaws snapped shut on air, and he tossed his dark mane. Ben furrowed his brow. If he'd really wanted to hurt the dog he could have done it in a moment. Apparently she, too, wasn't worthy of his attention.

The horse ambled past him, presenting his empty socket to the boy and stopping in the center of the paddock, cocking a hind hoof and staring at the boy and dog as if to say, bring it.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[snow]

"Dammit, Nero!"

Don't get him wrong, he loved the terrier so intensely that he felt as though they shared the same soul - life without Nero, in Aidan's opinion, wasn't life at all. But sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) he'd love to have found himself a dog that actually knew the meaning of the words 'sit' and 'heel', rather than one that probably knew the meaning of those words but would rather blissfully ignore them than listen to them. He'd let the Yorkie off his lead to allow him to explore, thinking that he couldn't possibly find trouble in a place as tranquil as this - he'd stupidly forgotten that Nero could find trouble in an empty cardboard box.

The dog was barking, very loudly and very high pitched. As a rule, Nero didn't yap - he wasn't the stereotypical small dog who made such irritating sounds, much to Aidan's relief. His bark was usually quite deep and more befitting of a larger breed, but Nero had chosen today to up the decibel and squeakiness of the sounds coming out of his mouth. He'd also chosen today to take a liking to the other side of the wooden fence Aidan was leaning on, and had squeezed his small body under the sturdy structure to bound around just annoyingly out of reach. You wouldn't think it was about a gazillion degrees, the way the dog was frolicking around - Aidan was sweating cobs, but then again he was dressed completely in black. Black pants, black shoes, black shirt - the only part of his usual entourage that he wasn't wearing was his black leather jacket, which was slung over the backseat of his clapped-out old Jeep, parked around the corner.

He flicked his sunglasses up from his eyes and onto his head, shading his gaze with one hand as the other one patted his leg in a vain attempt to attract Nero back to him. "Heel," he snapped, his voice broaching no arguments. "Heel, you furry little shitbag!" 'Furry little shitbag' was a term of endearment, of course. The hooved residents of the paddock were thankfully on the other side of it - as much as it would probably teach the terrier a lesson, Aidan didn't much fancy seeing his precious dog trampled by a herd of pissed-off horses. Nero marked his territory on three seperate fenceposts before he finally decided to listen to his owner, and slipped back under the fence to flop down obediently over Aidan's feet, his big brown eyes gazing beseechingly upwards. That was his whatever it is, I didn't do it, face. "Good lad. Sort of." Aidan leaned down to caress the dog's ears, a smile flicking across his normally sullen features. He folded his knees and sank into a seated position next to his beloved pet, his hand absently stroking Nero's panting head. His eyes drifted shut, a combination of the heat and a long few day's driving taking its toll.

The sound of wheels drew his attention and he opened his eyes, lazily knocking his shades back down so he could see through the sun's glare. On the other side of the paddock, he could just make out a human figure heading towards the truck and trailer; ever the nosy teenager, he rose to his feet and edged around the wooden fence to get a closer look. He watched as the human - a young man, from what Aidan could make out - helped unload a very reluctant horse from the trailer and lead the animal to the field, where it proceeded to glare at the boy. He didn't want to intrude or make the boy think he'd been watching, so he turned to leave. Nero, however, had other ideas. He smelled the other dog and made a beeline towards it, his furry tail waving madly through the air as he shot like a black and tan arrow towards the pit bull and her owner. "No, Nero! Come back!" As if the Yorkie was going to listen. Rolling his eyes in exasperation - the dog was never usually quite this contrary - Aidan began to chase after his pet.

By the time he arrived by the other boy, his face was bright red and his breath was coming in gasps from the heat - he had excellent stamina from his footballing days, but back in Britain he was lucky if it got above freezing, over here it felt like he was dashing across the surface of the sun. Nor did his chosen colour of black bode well for olympic sprints in this heat, he really was a glutton for punishment by continuing to wear such dark colours. Nero's tail-wagging grew in intensity as he trotted towards the pit bull, reaching out his nose to curiously sniff the other dog, his posture friendly. Wheezing, Aidan placed his hands on his knees, doubled over with tiredness. "Sorry...about...that." He leaned against the fencepost, removing his sunglasses and running a hand through his windblown hair. "He's...not usually quite so...ignorant." He didn't even know why he'd bothered chasing Nero, it wasn't like the Yorkie would attack the other dog - about the only damage he could do to the pit bull would be Death By Licking.

Now he was closer, Aidan could take in more about the other boy's appearance - he looked a little bit older than Aidan himself, who was on the back end of his final teenage year. He looked like he shared Aidan's love of dogs, though, if the attractive pit bull was anything to go by. By the time he'd made this quick assessment, the young man had recovered enough to turn and take in the bay gelding who'd just been turned out there. "Well, aren't you a handsome boy," he murmured to the gelding. It probably wasn't brilliant manners to interact with other people's horses without their permission - for all he knew, the gelding could be a maniac who ate human hands for lunch, but that didn't stop the lanky nineteen-year-old offering one out. As he did so, he caught sight of the equine's missing eye, and drew a sharp breath inwards, which he hurriedly tried to disguise with a cough. Deciding that it really was quite rude to run over like a bat out of hell armed with a Yorkshire Terrier and start gasping at people's one-eyed horses, Aidan thought he'd better introduce himself. He turned to the other boy with a quite nervous smile adorned on his face, he wasn't the gregarious sort and meeting new people was always difficult for him. His voice slipped easily into its American accent as he nodded at the older man, his hand still hanging over the horse-side of the fence. "I'm Aidan, by the way. The little fella's Nero."

[strawbk]

Hands on hips, the Australian sized up the bay horse, trying to think up a new plan of action. It was nearing eleven in the morning, and the heat was like a weight you could feel. His white cotton t-shirt felt damp and restricting against his skin, the waistband of his denim jeans sticky. Lucky for Ben, this was exactly the kind of weather he was used to. Although Tasmania was temperate, he'd been living further north for the last few years, and in the summer months, temperatures soared. Ben was so distracted by his own thoughts that had Jinx not suddenly bounced against the end of her lead, jingling her tags, he may not have even noticed the tiny intruder that had joined them.

Ben turned to see what his pit bull had gotten so excited about, and spied a tiny, fluffy dog already making itself acquainted with her. Jinx, who was typically hit-and-miss with other dogs, was relaxed, her body language open and friendly. Good, so he didn't have to worry about the little bugger becoming lunch. Still, offleash dogs could be a pain, and who knew how his new gelding would react? An uninterested dog like Jinx was one story, but a furry missile chasing and snapping at heels was an entirely different story. Maybe the Yorkshire terrier wasn't a horse chaser, but Benny really didn't want to take that risk, and wanted to scrape smashed terrier off of the horse's hooves even less.

He was striding towards the two dogs, ready to grab the Yorkie and set about finding his owner, when a younger boy appeared, panting. Clearly, he'd been chasing after the feather duster of a dog. "Sorry...about...that." Ben let the boy finish his apology, holding back his words. Hey, at least the kid was trying to control the dog, instead of just letting him do as pleased and thinking it just fabulous. "That's all right,"

[/color] he brushed of the apology, accent heavy. "He's lucky she likes him."[/color] Nodding towards the two, Ben couldn't help feeling a swell of pride for his dog.

She had her chest to the ground and her rump in the air, tail wagging loosely. Her jaws were split in a wide grin, an impossibly large tongue flopping out of one side as she nudged the terrier's body with her tiny, square muzzle. Sure, every generation of her ancestors up until her great-grandparents had been selectively bred to destroy other dogs in a pit, but that didn't make her incapable of befriending other dogs. After all, she was a dog before she was an American pit bull terrier.

Ben couldn't let the kid get away without a warning though, even if the dogs were getting along. "Probably gonna wanna be careful though. Just 'cos he's friendly doesn't mean every dog he runs up to will be. He'd have been a snack already if Jinx wasn't friendly."[/color] The terrier's body was small and soft, and it was all too easy to imagine the speed at which it could be mangled and torn by another dog with less friendly intentions.

Just then though, the dark haired youth commented on his gelding. Ben turned, watching the horse suspiciously. Handsome? Really? In his mind, the bay was plain as plain could be. He had his head tilted, looking at the small gathering by the fence out of his one eye, leering at the boy's offered hand. "Good luck, he ain't big on people."[/color] Ben scoffed, rolling his shoulders to try and relieve himself of the tshirt that clung to his back in the heat. Just then, the horse straightened his face, showing the gaping socket where his left I should have been. Suddenly, as if to prove Ben wrong, he took several steps forward, coming to a halt a couple meters away from the fenceline.

He didn't extend his muzzle, he didn't even flare his nostrils to take in the new boy's scent. He seemed entirely uninterested, except that both of his delicate ears were focused on the new human. "Well..."[/color] Ben exhaled slowly. "Way to prove me wrong, horsey."[/color] The bay cocked one hind leg and lowered his head, apparently losing interest. Ben reached out, running his hand over the horse's shoulder, but got no reaction, not even a shuddering of his skin. Quite simply, the horse obviously just didn't give two shits about anything or anyone around him. Except for five seconds when he had walked over at the sound of the new boy's voice.

Benna glanced up as he introduced himself. Aidan, huh. "Ben."[/color] He nodded, finally finding it within himself to give up the two-minute grudge he'd been holding and offering the kid one of his broad Aussie grins. "That's Jinx,"[/color] he waved nonchalantly at the pit bull, who was proceeding to flop upsidedown on her back, waving her paws at the tiny Yorkie and making disgusting hacking and snorting noises. "And this is... well, 'Horsey' for now I guess. He just got here from Mexico."[/color]

Horsey didn't look too impressed with the whole ordeal. Then again, Horsey didn't seem like the type to be impressed by much. Maybe an alien serenading him would do it. Or if Jinx swallowed a tuba.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[snow]

Aidan's face had finally lost its red glow and his breath was coming slightly less painfully; he straightened, withdrawing his hand as the gelding showed no signs of coming to sniff it. It surprised Aidan that the horse had even reacted to him, given that it seemed he couldn't care less about his owner - what on earth had happened to the gelding to make him so uninterested? The teenager scrutinised the animal, narrowing his dark eyes. He'd met violent horses, beasts that flattened their ears and launched bites and kicks towards any human that approached them; he'd met submissive, terrified horses who retreated to the back of their stalls and tried to make themselves look as small as possible. But he'd never met horses who showed nothing - Aidan got the feeling he could have ran around naked waving a red flag and the gelding wouldn't even have flicked an ear.

As the older boy commented on Nero's impromptu and foolish approach towards the pit bull, Aidan nodded with a slightly arched brow. "Tell me about it. He's as wary of humans as it's possible to be but he runs towards anything with four paws like it's his BFF." Reaching down, he scooped the terrier up into his arms and held the wriggling bundle close to him, feeling suddenly more secure with his beloved dog so close to his heart. A Yorkshire Terrier wasn't very masculine, especially one that would rather behead itself than get its paws dirty, but for so long Nero had been Aidan's only friend and he would die for the furry little creature a thousand times over.

Nero turned his head and eyed the gelding on the other side of the fence, his tail-wagging increasing in velocity, but he ceased his wiggling and made no move to leap the barrier to get to the horse. He knew not to bother horses - he'd learnt his lesson when he'd found himself on the wrong end of an irritated mare's hoof after bouncing around her feet - and Aidan knew there was no danger of him approaching the gelding. But the dog was in one of those moods today where he seemed intent on disproving his owner's claims in any way possible, so Aidan reached into his pocket and drew out a slim nylon lead (black, of course) which he clipped onto the terrier's collar. The small dog did what could only be described as a pout - aw, what did I do? - and flopped his roasty body across Aidan's feet when the boy put him down.

Aidan glanced across at the other boy's dog when he introduced them, admiring the pit bull's firm muscles and powerful build. Aidan had always been a big dog person when he was a kid, and his favourite breed was the Doberman - he'd loved playing with the one who lived next door when he was back in England. He would love to own a larger dog with whom he could do sports or conformation showing, things which Nero was sadly useless for. Yorkies weren't built for the likes of weight pulling or dock diving, unfortunately, and Nero's lack of known parentage or papers made him useless as a show dog despite his fine conformation. A small part of Aidan envied Ben his attractive dog and her future in working or showing, although no part of him would swap his beloved Nero for anything higher up the power spectrum. "She's beautiful," he said, gesturing towards the lolloping pit bull with the hand that wasn't holding Nero's leash. He turned to 'Horsey' and grinned softly. "Horsey...got a good ring to it."

Another aspiration of Aidan's was to own a horse of his own, but he knew there was no chance of it whilst he was still a nomad, travelling the States in his tatty old Jeep. However, despite the unrelenting heat he felt a connection to this place and made up his mind to have a gander around the property market, see if there was a way for him and Nero to remain here. With a steady home and - gasp - a job, he would hopefully be able to scrounge together his savings and get himself a horsie. "You live here, then?" he asked the other boy, his voice casual. He leaned on the fencepost and glanced again at the gelding in the field, his brow furrowed at the sheer boredness in the bay's posture. "You're a strange one, eh Horsey?" he murmured, his voice soft.

[strawbk]

A sense of security descended upon Ben as he saw the boy finally clip a lead to the Yorkie's collar. Good, no more running around causing mischief for him. Resting his forearms on the top rail of the whitewashed wooden fence, he glanced down at his bulldog, grinning as the younger boy complimented her good looks. "Yup, she's my pride and joy. Straight Sorrells."

[/color] To anybody that was into the breed, they'd know that her bloodline meant Jinx was gamebred, that her ancestors had been hardened warriors, and that they had proved themselves over and over again. The fighting was of no interest to Ben, he didn't fancy the idea of allowing his dog to be brutally wounded just so that she could prove her gameness. But the dogs that Jinx was descended from were more than just fighters. Their strength, speed, heart and rock solid determination meant they excelled at just about everything. They would be the best at whatever you wanted them to be. And that meant, Jinx was the best best friend he could ever ask for.

Shortly, his attention was drawn back to the bay gelding, relaxing nearby. He was an enigma, that was for sure. The Aussie rested his chin on his muscled forearms, furrowing his brow at the plain brown horse. When Aidan asked if he lived in Addison, Ben managed an awkward nod, chin bumping his arms. "Yep, moved here from Tasmania about a month ago. You?"[/color] Well, if someone was just passing through, it was unlikely they'd be stopping at Crossfire. Addison was a small town, and there wasn't much to see in the way of tourist attractions. The barn was impressive, yes, but you'd have to be horsey to your roots to come visit a town just to see its barn.

Strange one was right, Horsey. "Uh huh."[/color] Again, he considered the horse. He just didn't give a damn. It had been the same down in the border town. The gelding couldn't be asked to do a thing, and that included protesting. He just... stood. "He just... he doesn't give a shit, you know?"[/color] Ben couldn't say what the gelding had been through. It could have been everything or nothing. He wasn't skittish and afraid like a neglected or abused horse may be. He was savage and violent. He wasn't desperate for attention. He was just cold. "Until he saw you."[/color] Even then, it had only been a flash of interest, gone after a moment.

He held his hand out again towards the bay, clicking his tongue. Promptly, he meandered over to Aidan, resting his whiskered chin on the rails of the fence and glaring at Ben out of his one eye almost out of spite. "Oh, you'll go say hi to him but not me?"[/color] Pretending to be offended, he reached out to pat the horse on his cheek, but the bay swung his head away just as Ben's fingers made contact with the smooth fur. Shaking his forelock out of his face, the bay rested his chin once more on the top rail of the fence, and Ben digressed to stroking his neck instead. The horse's ears were tipped back in irritation, but he clearly wasn't bothered enough to shuffle away from the touch.

"Huh. He didn't want me to touch him before."[/color] To be fair, it was clear the horse still didn't want to be touched. He was tolerating Ben, nothing more.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[snow]

Dog fighting was something Aidan had always been strongly against - he'd been invited numerous times to illegal fights underground during his time in Miami, and although he had declined he was still no stranger to the sight of a pit bull minus an ear or an eye. Jinx would have been perfect for the sport - if it could be called a 'sport' - but he didn't think Ben the sort to enter such brutal competitions. Thank heavens. "She really is stunning. I'd love to own a dog for showing and sports - Nero's the best friend I could ask for but he'd look at me like I had two heads if I asked him to weight pull or something." He reached down to ruffle the fur on the top of the dog's head and was greeted with a pair of beseeching brown eyes that felt very hard done by having been put on the leash. Somebody was sulking.

The other boy came from afar too, then. "I've been travelling round the states for a year or so now - just me and this lump." He prodded the Yorkie with a toe. "But I kinda like this place. Might see what we can do about staying." Travelling was something Aidan adored - times were hard, especially when he was living off his savings, but there was something deeply satisfying about whizzing around the states in his battered truck, just him and his dog. Sometimes they'd find a hotel, but a lot of the time they slept on the backseat of the car with the stars all around them, truly free. His heart yearned for the open roads, yet there was a rapidly expanding part of him that thought giving up the nomadic lifestyle and settling down was actually quite appealing. Plus he'd then be able to get himself a horse - or bring his old one to him.

Well, she wasn't technically his but he had been responsible for her coming into this world. Accidentally, of course. During his first week on the farm - when he was an irresponsible and none-horse-savvy little delinquent - he'd found himself oggling the stallion owned by one of the barn hands, who lived away from the rest of the stable. Aidan had approached the handsome horse on many occasions and he seemed friendly enough, so his horse-retarded brain had decided that it would quite like to get to know the lonely stallion a bit better. One night he climbed out of his dormitory window and shimmied down the ivy, making his way to the stallion's enclosure. He opened the gate and vaulted onto the stallion's back, with no tack or anything - yes, he was that stupid, and this was before he'd even learned how to ride. What happened next was pretty much a given - the stallion reared, toppling Aidan to the ground where he smacked his head on a rock and fell unconscious, then proceeded to prance away and have his wicked way with the first mare he met.

When Aidan woke up in hospital the next day, he was angrily informed of the results of his little misdemeanour, and told that if the mare was pregnant it would be his responsibility to pay for the resulting foal out of his own money. The filly that was born was Aidan's responsibility, and he named her Romana - he broke her to ride, he paid for her stabling and care, and he would have brought her with him when he left if he'd had a stable place to stay. Maybe now he'd made up his mind about staying here, he'd see what he could do about bringing her over here to him. She'd be about three, now - the possibilities were endless.

The gelding meandered over, then, and Aidan arched a brow, surprised that such a couldn't-care-less horse would come near to him. "I've met horses that'd have your fingers, and ones who'd run as soon as you came near them - I've never met one quite so emotionless." As Horsey swung his head away from Ben, Aidan tentatively reached his own hand over to try and caress the bay's cheek. It confused him that the gelding had taken a shine to him - perhaps, unlike the same ends of a magnet, two broken entities could be drawn to one another. Perhaps, like Aidan, the gelding had endured things in the past that he'd rather not think about.

[strawbk]

Huh, showing and sports? Ben tended to be leery of dog shows, well, when it came to conformation shows in any case. He had his own strong opinion about kennel clubs and registries, and those who bred their dogs for the show ring. Being recognized by a kennel club is the beginning of the end for a breed, the way Ben saw it. Developing a standard, saying a dog needs to have x and y proportions, be a certain colour, have a certain way of moving. It was nonsense to him. Ben was adamant there was no bad colour (or height, or length of coat, or ear set) for a good dog. That's why Jinx had come from a breeder who bred his dog's for function over form. Jinx's ancestors had been fantastic gladiators, even if they weren't the most stunning physical examples, and her more recent relatives worked on ranches or helped hunt dingoes and wild pigs.

"I'm not really into the whole show scene..."

[/color] He began, although he wasn't about to sit Aidan down for a long in depth talk about his opinion on dogs. Jinx had just recently acquired her champion title from the ADBA, a more 'pit bull' friendly dog registry. That was no great shakes though, even cruddy dogs could win that title if they showed for long enough. He'd taken her to the shows as a youngster to get involved in the dog community back home. Once she'd won her title, he continued to take her to the competitions for socialization, but he never entered her again. They came, they saw, they conquered, and they weren't going to hang around, gloat, and be greedy for more titles.

"She pulls pretty good though, I might get her involved in some stuff here."[/color] That was if he ended up staying for any length of time. Jinx could do anything though. She was already comfortable pulling three times her own body weight when called upon to do so, so weightpull was an option. Then again, so were any number of canine sports. Tilting his head down at the silky furball that was Nero, Benny considered the little guy. He could do something, if he had the drive and Aidan had the interest. Then again, maybe Nero was lacking in that department. Maybe his ancestors had been hotblooded, feisty terriers, eager to get into a pit with fifty rats and race to get them all killed, but Nero looked pretty far removed from that kind of life.

The Aussie rolled his shoulder, sore from dealing with a rambunctious pony earlier who had not been impressed with the idea of having his hooves trimmed. "Well, Addison's been treating me pretty well so far. I'm only meant to be here temporarily but it's looking like I'm going to be in America longer than I expected."[/color] And as much as he wanted to travel and see as much as possible, it suited him best to remain in Addison. There was solid work here, and the desert reminded him of home.

Emotionless. Now there was a good word for the gelding. Maybe it was his own little way of self-preservation. Ben was inclined to believe there was more to the horse, that some horrid treatment had made him close himself off. He must have been a fuzzy-rumped foal at one point, frisking about the paddocks. He must have been innocent and wide-eyed and looked at everything with wonder, right? He reached out, stroking the sleek bay neck again. The gelding flattened his ears but couldn't be bothered to move away. "He's a mystery. I don't know what he's been through, only that he couldn't give to shits about it or anything else."[/color] Benna glanced over at Aidan slyly. "He likes you more than anybody else though, I think. Want to give me a hand with him?"[/color] Of course, Horsey chose that moment to swing his head away from Aidan's touch, even though the boy hadn't come up on his blind side. Irritably, he stomped one hoof, then settled once more. Evidently, he wasn't fond of having his head handled.

"I gotta get through to him somehow."[/color]

{LOL POOR BEN. Little does he know there's nothing to get through to. x3}[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]