[i think its a calling...][open]

[♥ poppies]

Maroon hair covered her head as it breezed in the whipping wind of a mid-morning. Two wheels and a frame made up the in-expensive bike, it was pretty good to have it. Gas was costing a fortune, her mom worked four hours a day as an accountant an hours drive away. Luckily it was Wednesday, the sixteen year old had dropped out of school not to her mom's liking. Off-white shirt covered her upper body as a pair of jeans covered her lower body, paddock boots keeping her feet warm with the half chaps dragged over the bottom of her legs. Words still ceased to exsist ecept when she was with her gelding Sparrow, a rare Westphalian unusually found in America. Her bike made a halting sound as Melinda balanced the piece of framework and transportation before leaning it against the barn. Tina, her mother, couldn't afford boarding at such an elite stables so Melinda had to work at least five days a week with seven hours each, but not in a row. With her spare time she walked Sparrow around the barn or let him run freely in the pasture even though it wasn't part of her deal.

Growing up in Fairfield for the last few years made her seem more open but she still never talked. Sparrow let her talk without an opinion and he was alway responsize with a nudge or just wanting a carrot. Mainy times the bay gelding had heard the story but Melinda felt at ease with him nearby, the two were going into the showing circuit and she had yet to see his new jumping ability. When he left he was a ugly little horse in others eyes and when he was finished people offered thousands for him but she refused. Walking into the aisle her used tack trunk sat infront of his stall as she opened it and grabbed her hoodie. It said 'Barn Rat' on it and she was about to get to work when she saw it was only nine in the morning. Melinda didn't have to get to work until ten o' clock, maybe Sparrow wanted a trail ride. Softly the words escaped her chapped lips, "Ride Sparrow?" All though few and little words made the horse shake his head up and down.

Lips curved into a smile as Melinda walked down the aisle into the tack room passing all the horses. It was her third day of work and Sparrow had arrived only last night from his trainer in Florida, luckily his tack was already there. The trained threw in a set of used jumping tack and a trail bridle. Grabbing the chestnut bridle from the hook she walked out of the tack room with her head down. Maroon hair held back in a ponytail, the brunette though had started to shimmer back through it. Unlatching the door she saw only two minutes had passed as she walked into his stall and buckled it on. Collecting the reins she grabbed some mane and bounced on her toes before giving herself a good jump. Half way in the air a small tap on her butt from Sparrow hit her as she made an ouch expression before dragging her leg over his back. With six months of riding experience she knew little of jumping but he learned some bareback.

A click from tongue set him off as he set off at a walk his ears alert as she bent down and he exited the stall. Hooves clacking as he broke from his walk to a trot, then from a trot to a canter. Melinda's hips moving to the rocking motion as he cantered out of the front of the stables and onto the trail were Melinda cooed him down into a walk. Face still blank of expression she looked at the trees, some of their branches broken completely from the storm the night before.

[Beau]

With excitement, Beau gripped the steering wheel of the Maserati. Because Bridgette had been caught, in his own home, with a bottle of tequila, he’d decided to suspend her only set of wheels. His own keys- for the Escalade and the Chopper, were in his quarters, locked in a drawer in his bedside table. Of course, the quad keys were hung in the kitchen, but she wouldn’t dare sit on that thing. It was covered in mud! And besides, Beau would easily admit to looking better in the car than she did. If Beau could have his way, he wouldn’t even let her look at it.

After conversing, quickly, on his cell phone to a stable hand, Beau was reassured that he’d have his horse, Turner, tacked and ready for a small trail ride. The German Warmblood hadn’t gotten out from her stall much after she’d gotten a cut from a stray fence board, and Beau wouldn’t risk her leg getting infected on a ride. But now that she was better, he was too excited to get on her back. Tires screeching to a halt, Beau managed to park with the car’s headlights only inches from the stable building. With a grin, he stepped from the low car and sauntered into his stables.

There, beautiful as can be, was his mare. At the sight of Beau, she pranced on her toes and whinnied, tossing her bridled head. Without any hesitation, he grabbed the reins, thanked his employee, and led her outside and climbed on her back. Sitting deeply in the saddle, he ushered his mare towards the forest line, where the trails were located. Unfortunately, due to a storm the night before, the trail was muddy and slick in some spots. Of course, his mare wouldn’t protest to a ride, but she wouldn’t enjoy the mud caking her hooves and legs.

With a swift movement, Beau managed to get a beautiful canter from the horse. She had broke through the tree-line into the mud at a canter, and without any slip or mishap. Without realizing another rider was ahead, Beau tugged on the reins, ignoring Turner’s protesting snort. Ears pricked, she walked behind another horse. “Whoa,” He cooed loudly, getting his horse’s attention. Her tensed muscles relaxed, and he trotted up next to the girl. With a smile, he held Turner at the spot next to her, thankful for the width of the path. “’Allo!” He grinned, nodding once.

[♥ poppies]

With a cluck of her tongue Tuck immediately tossed his head and protested as he turned to see something. Instinct told her not to look so she followed it, a natural balance and order was in this world. At this Melinda was at the bottom. The horse's stride continued to pound forward with each walking stride. Even at this it seemed so fast yet awkwardly quiet as anything could be. Hooves soon disguised at the sounds of new ones but they were blocked to Melinda. Ears not allowing anything but the soft wind blow in her ears she felt at home on his back. Dark brown mane flowing with each whip of the wind, it craddled her hands as they rested on his wither. Reins tucked deep within her firm grip but letting go of most of the leather braiding for his head to bob up and down. The handsome gelding was such a childish horse which was something that Melinda had loved to see. Signing him up for his first real horse show she was getting excited but also nervous at how he'd cope with it.

Heels popped down and toes in the air, feet pointing straight ahead as a voice filled Melinda's ears. Winds just stopped as she felt Tuck halt before tossing his head and squealing as he saw another equine. Immediately the gelding wanted to make friends as he nickered and put his head down curiously. If only Melinda could be as friendly a simple nod of the head was all she gave to the person. Eyes looked from Tuck's withers to the person on the horse, a man, most importantly that was Melinda's weakness. Guys in particular gave her the chills as one immediately sent its way up her spine and back again. Again she looked from his withers to the person on the horse as she grabbed a hold of herself. Sitting up more properly she looked at the person with a steady gaze, suddenly she remembered her helmet. It wasn't with her, she must have forgotten it in the tack room. With that small thought the shine of maroon hair came into her mind as she looked back down onto the gelding's withers and spoke softly. "Hello."

[Beau]

Turner was fine with being in the horse’s presence, even if the horse was male. The German Warmblood held her handsome head high, lifting her legs a bit higher than necessary. She didn’t even seem the least bit concerned about the large dollops of mud in her wake, which began to cake along her sleek legs. Beau let his hands relax on the horse’s withers, the reins lazily in his grasp. He needed no extra effort to keep Turner under control- she was doing just fine. The girl’s own mount was stunning- but, Beau was biased and adored his mare.

The girl’s comfort was very obvious to Beau, now that he turned to smile at her. A nervous glance to Beau and then back to her horse, an uncertainty about something; Beau hoped she realized that her actions were just as readable as books were. With a nervous smile, he nodded to her horse. “Very pretty.” He glanced ahead a moment to quickly squeeze his calves to the horse’s sides, and her feet lifted momentarily to clear a log that had been on their side of the path. It suddenly dawned on him- snapping his head around, back to the girl, his eyebrow arched. “Missing something?” He grinned, noticing her helmet-less head.

[♥ poppies]

Tossing his head and nodding his nose towards the other horse he seemed like a playful puppy. Tail flicking and moving swiftly with the almost dead wind as he nickered and looked at the mare, he was acting like a young colt. All though a Westphalian who was suppose to have that elegant conformational glance of a look and details more defined than anything. Sparrow, aka Tuck, was looking more like some crossbred instead all though he was purely bred several years ago. Hearing what he said Melinda froze on the gelding's back, it sounded like HIM, that jerk who attaked her. Suddenly she looked up and realized he had nodded at Sparrow and her body partially relaxed, almost only her shoulders. Thighs wrapped around the bay barrel of the horse as she let her toes try to wrap around him to there was no way she could be taken off. Softly the words whispered out of her mouth almost dissappearing into the wind but they managed to be loud enough. "People call him Tuck but I call him Sparrow. He's a five year old Westphalian gelding...." Damn words escaped her as her throat ran dry, the saliva dissappearing out of trace in her mouth.

Finally it managed to be found in her mouth as she spoke again, "She's pretty as well." Melinda had never spoken loud enough ever since she was fourteen, her fingers twisting in the black mane of the gelding. Head bobbing up and down as they walked slowly and Sparrow looked at the mare next to him as his nose touched her neck before he withdrew and looked down at the ground before at the mare. A very friendly gelding he had been so lonesome with no pasture mates ever since he was with his trainer in Florida. The other words of something missing she immediately recognized it as her helmet. Again slow and soft words came out of her mouth as her lips moved with the words. "It is probably at my house, its two miles from here." Fairfield child she was the person who knew most of the area around the entire farm probably. Several times she rode her bike on the trails and knew every nook and cranny. Another thing was that Sparrow was her greatest love since anything.

[Beau]

The mare didn’t seem too concerned with the gelding, although he kept her head to herself. She seemed quite taken that she had appeared to behaving like a star; with extra flourish, she tossed her head and gave a dignified sort of snort. Beau noticed that the horse was Westphalian, only to have his doubts righted when the girl confirmed this. It didn’t look like one, to Beau anyways. Turner, on the other hand; her hooves looked like they were doubled the size of the Westphalian’s, her crown towering above the other horses, and her muscles, sleek and conformed, protruding against the deep bay of her shining, healthy coat. She looked like a true Warmblood, and her height and form could only confirm that she was bred pure and German.

Beau smiled softly. “People call her Gegenwart ist Besiegelt , I call her Besiegelt or Turner.” He nodded, patting the horse’s next heartily. She craned her neck to accept the affection, her nostrils widening with pleasure. She hardly shied from the horse when he greeted her- she only returned an annoyed-sounding snort. “She is Deutschland Warm...” He shrugged off the rest of the breed; he didn’t know it. He cocked his brow again, grinning as he glanced over to hear her excuse. “I will forgive, remember next time.” He nodded softly, figuring it was the best he could do for now, all but roll his eyes. With a soft angle to his head, he looked at the girl whom he’d just met. “You are quiet. Why?”

---

“People call her Present is Sealed. I call her Sealed, or Turner.”

[♥ poppies]

Sparrow was trying to make himself a friend, and yet this other equine was ignoring him and showing discomfort. Shooting his head up he halted in place, he was frustrated, tossing his head and flicking his tail as he tried to act prissy looking like the mare. His head held high, nostrils opened, and his legs lifting high as he started to walk again. Softly a giggle escaped Melinda's lips as she rubbed her lips with one of her hands and felt the high prancing horse underneath her. "What language is that?" Being American she knew well, obviously English but she had learned little Spanish before dropping out of school. Braided reins sat in her fingers as they sat basically on his neck, instead of dragging down they were held nicely on his wither since he was mocking the mare. "I think Sparrow wants to be friends with Turner." Smile on her face the words had come out softly as she saw the gelding ignoring the mare before nudging her on the neck once more and then ivnestigating the mare's rider. He had started to lag behind and his nose withdrew from the mare's neck and then lunged at the rider's leg. Tapping it softly he grabbed the pant leg and nibbled for a secondbefore Melinda noticed and clucked making him release and walk faster.

Soon the words escaped the man that she had not wanted to hear, why was she so quiet. Simply she had chosen to, most of all though because of her secret hidden deep beneath the words she could be speaking. Quickly the subject had wanted to change as she gave a petite cue for the gelding to quicken his speed as he lengthened his stride. Still in a mockery of a pose, head held high, ears alert and tail swishing fancy. Legs lifting high as he walked with an awkwardness in his appearance which made him look rediculous. Melinda had become a worried rider and was basically shaking before the gelding turned his head and settled back into the slacked relaxed appearance. "What style do you ride her in?" Finally the subject had changed, after those words she thought in peace as she looked up ahead. Say more....I can't. My throat is dry, nothing left but breath. They ended as she scooted forward on the gelding's back and let her hand run down his neck. Warm fur was underneath her palm but almost no feeling. A gash was on the opposite side of her palm, it had happened two days ago after she smashed a mirror and it cut her harshly. It never affected her but it killed others to see it and they thought she was some sort of person with mental problems.

[Beau]

Beau grinned when the girl’s horse became fed up with attempting a treaty with his mare; she wouldn’t have any of it. Much to her dislike, Beau had slowed her, tugging on the reins. Prancing on the spot, she craned her head to see what the hold up was. Beau shrugged, his nose wrinkled in thought. He was having a slightly difficult time twisting in the English saddle to glance back at the girl- he much preferred western saddles. “German. My Englisch isn’t very well.” Of course, unless she was deaf, mute, or the works, she would’ve realized that by now. He’d quit his language classes only weeks ago- he only figured he had a decent vocabulary to run his business by now. He chuckled softly when the horse had been nibbling his jeans- it probably hadn’t tasted so well; they were new, and the starch to keep them straight was fresh. It was only moments before the two had been walking their horses again.

Beau had completely overlooked her subtle subject change. If he had noticed it, he would’ve pressed beyond comfort- or he would glare and shrug it off. He noticed the horse attempt at Turner’s stance- and apparently she had, too. With a snort, he nipped at his neck and trotted, shaking her braided mane. Unfortunately, her braids had been so tight along her crest and neck, they hadn’t budged an inch. “She is dressage and Englisch, mainly. I rode her in championship- she is Germany’s leading mare.” He nodded proudly, leaning forward to stroke her neck. She bathed in the affection- once again, she craned her neck and then eyed the gelding like she had something he didn’t.

[♥ poppies]

It had seemed to Melinda that the gelding was flirting with the mare and she smiled, shaking her head at that. Each word came slowly through her ears as she let her hand rest on the thick bay neck before withdrawing to a warm home on his withers. A thick black mane that spiked in all the wrong places made him look like a quarter horse yearling colt, his frizzy tail was out of normal shape but long and flowing. Whenever it was neatened he looked like the real breed he was, pure Westphalian, yet he had that awkward stance every time that made him stick out. His knee tipped on the inside and he had a nine out of ten in conformation. With that small fault the halter classes always usually ranked him down a few points but it was almost hard to notice, w hen he moved you just saw spirit. For a five year old they should be set back and relaxed with a few years until being completely broken in. Sparrow however basically was born a colt, gelded, yet he acted like nothing had happened. No words came from Melinda as she just starred at the flirting going from Sparrow to Turner, the mare seemed to have none of it.

Quickly the gelding stood taller than her for a second and grabbed a part of her mane and pulled it. Seeming to want to see just how long her mane was, see if she could pull off a wild look like he did. Sparrow's mane was long and thick and covered his eyes sometimes, once it was braided it was amazing at how different he looked. After his small attack at her mane he squealed and tossed his head prancing a few strides before lowering his head and relaxing. Melinda let the reins fall as long as they'd go as she bit her lip and tried to speak but words were scarce, they didn't exsist anymore. If only she could tell someone about what happened, then words would really exsist but she couldn't. Tail switching back and forth the gelding tried once more to impress the mare as he arched his neck and held his tail high, ears alert as he stole a glance at the mare. "I think Sparrow has a small crush." On his back it seemed like he really was a stallion, except he was getting approvement from his mate, all though Turner would never be his mate. Gelded made him loose his manly pride and it sort of had made Melinda more secure of riding him without him trying to mount every mare in sight. Long braided reins she collected them and he kept his head still high. Quickly Sparrow grew in pain and let his head back down before turning and nudging the mare and then acting like it never happened, he nudged his rider's leg. Smiling at him the gelding looked back ahead stealing looks at Turner.

[Beau]

Beau hadn’t noticed the ‘crush’ until she had pointed it out. He figured it was typical gelding behavior- or behavior for this gelding, anyways. Turner figured she was too good for this scamp of a horse, with his odd-looking mane, and his tousled tail. Turner was spic and span; her mane braided neatly, her tail rolled into a small ball at the end of her spine. Her wide, alert eyes sparkled with life, her ears alert and almost always perked forward. She eyed the scamp nervously, as though expecting some sort of assault. It only came when she had least expected it- Beau had adjusted a stirrup and she had become sidetracked. His lips closed over her delicate braids, and tugged them from their bands. With an aggravated snort, she side-stepped, leaving a wide berth between the two horses.

Grinning, he let the horse misstep, and flash her teeth dangerously. He didn’t bother leaning forward to fix the braid- her mane was too long, and he would have a difficult time doing it on her back. It was rather wavy- it ended just at her shoulder, and was quite sleek. Beau leant forward, resting his cheek on her neck, thankful that the few braids had been tugged out. “Me too. She is hündin, though.” He grinned, leaning on her neck comfortably. He cocked a brow suddenly, realizing she wasn’t much older than his cousin. “You are same age as my cousin. You should meet!” He grinned.

---

“Me too. She is bitch, though

[♥ poppies]

Deep sigh the bay gelding had started to think of new ideas. Walking a bit quicker than the mare he moved infront of her without Melinda realizing, she had spaced out. Eyes had looked down at her hand which had that medical tap over it, and then she realized that Sparrow stood infront of Turner and her rider. Adjusting himself the gelding turned more to face the mare face-to-face as he curled his lip and nudged her. "He won't give-up easily." Blank brown eyes of Melinda looked down at the gelding as she stroked his neck and he squealed with discomfort, also the pleasure of making Turner made. This exact tactic had never gotten him in trouble but it had made him more suspicous when he was with other horses. Shaking his head it sent his mane in different ways as he looked at her and snuck another snap at her mane. Pulling at least half of her mane undone he nodded his head, Sparrow had won the mane battle and whickered before turning and flicking his tail in the mare's face and walking ahead.

Turning around Melinda bit her lip feeling as if though the gelding had just gotten her disliked by not only the man but also his horse. "How old is she?" Sighing she dragged her hand over the neck of the gelding who had fallen back into thesteady pace that had been there before the war of the equines began. Turner vs. Sparrow, if it were a couple name it would sound snappy but so far Sparrow had probably made an enemy instead of a new friend. What would happen if they both one day needed a pasture mate and only they were left together. Thoughts of that would probably lead to a World War III but of the equines instead, all though Sparrow wasn't a fighter he loved to make friens. Hooves clicked on the dirt trail over rocks as he lifted his feet carefully before they came infront of a small stream. Immediately he longe straight in, the water up to his stomach as he walked across with relief. Getting to the other side he turned and tossed his head, he was soaked and covered in mud.

[Beau]

Beau had to sit up when he felt the mare shift uneasily beneath him. He tugged on the reins gently when he noticed the gelding stop in front of her, demanding communication or returned feelings. She tossed her head, wanting to get on with the ride. Her only focus at the moment was to carry Beau around on her back, and the gelding was getting in the way of that for now. She was even angrier when more than half of her mane had been ripped from their gorgeous braids- the rubber bands that had held them snapping at her delicate neck. With a snort, she nipped his neck, trotting around him at Beau’s command. He’d been grinning the whole while- the mare was a bitch, and it was too cute to break up their little tiff.

When the stream loomed ahead, Turner was slightly reluctant. When the gelding made it through, she bounded in, the water only coming up just a few inches short of her stomach, and came out at the other bank. The mud had only caked to above her knee- the water had washed the rest away. He thought hard about his cousin’s age, but to him it was just another number that was forgotten. Bridgette wasn’t old enough to drink, that was for sure, so she was under-aged. “Year or so older than you?” He shrugged, letting Turner walk up alongside the gelding, which she somehow disliked. She’d grow onto him sooner or later. “She is very nice, though!” He grinned, nodding.

[♥ poppies]

Sparrow stood on the other side, he had swam in the deeper area of the small crossing and it reached almost to Melinda's boots. Head held low he snatched a treat of grass as his rider patted his somewhat drenched neck. Maroon hair sat somewhat shimmering on her head as she slowly took her hand off his brown coat and let it rest on her leg. Left hand holding the reins that had almost no control over teh gelding if he spooked, yet he never had. The trail had seemed farmiliar, when she had bought Sparrow for the cheap price at the market and walked him home they had taken a detour off on a trail. It had led to an abandoned orchard, the apples were fresh and a small shack that held two stalls meant for draft horses were there. Melinda soon started to wonder if the gelding had still known the way and after all he was leading them to their destination. Slidding her hand over her hair she looked at the man and then spoke softly, "By the way I'm Melinda." The two hadn't known each others names through the entire time of being aquainted, they just knew their mount's names. Soft fur underneath her bottom made riding Sparrow twice as more comfortable then with his saddle on. The saddle was a thick piece of leather between rider and horse to give a careful sensation so they were actually riding.

Melinda had yet to experience any real riding with the bay Westphalian because he had just gotten back from his trained in the south. A hurricane had blown through while he was being trained so the training had been dealyed a few months. Petite pull on the reins she pulled the gelding from an almost trot back into his settled walk from the water as he tossed his head nad whickered softly but deeply for Turner. Obviously he had a huge crush on the mare but it wouldn't go anywhere since the mare was one of those type of horses. Cheery trees on the side of the trail slowly turned into apple trees, the orchard had to be coming up soon it appeared. Ears were alert at the sounds of birds, Sparrow halted and tossed his head. "I think its time to stop and walk the rest of the way." Looking up ahead from where she sat on the gelding she saw rocks ahead, it wouldn't be safe for a horse with a rider. Swinging her leg over she grunted as she landed and patted the gelding's neck. Replacing her spot on the gelding came a little blue jay and smaller birds. Smiling at the gelding she looked at the bird and then saw Sparrow's expression. Another deep whicker but low toned he looked at the mare and offered some sort of a horse smile.