14thcommander | ic contact

"Some trainees are all about the flash. But what leads to success is a solid comprehension and appreciation for the basics."

She kind of thought Fives might appreciate that, as a career soldier himself.

"But we'll have some fun! Scout horses are good-natured beasts. They're trained to enjoy time with humans."

They walk into a scene out of a medieval picture book, though one with some twists. There's an actual, literal castle in view, though it's a short walk away. The stable is right there, a large wooden building. There's training grounds visible all around them, strange looking grounds with all kinds of structures to climb and swing around on, arenas for hand to hand practice and general physical conditioning, target ranges... scouts have to be very capable. Behind and around the stables a forest rises, tall trees rustling their leaves and needles in the warm breeze. The air smells like springtime and also like horse. Hange leads them for the stables.

"Here. We're going to bribe your horse into making friends with you."

There's a table with tea and fixings set up. Hange makes her way by it to open a bin and pull out a bunch of slightly mushy-looking apples.

Fives takes it all in with the kind of automatic thoroughness that only a lifetime of training brings, where threats might be concealed, where the cover is, vantage points and choke points and potential weapons or hazards, and continues along with Hange, listening intently, watching as she retrieves the apples.

"Kind of like bribing sheep, then," he observes. "This looks like a pretty versatile facility."

"Horses are smarter than sheep, especially these ones. They don't spook as easily as a civilian-standard horse, and they can sustain speeds of seventy-five to eighty kilometers per hour for long periods of time without failing. They cost as much as your average civilian makes in their life, and they're considered members of the scouts. When a horse dies outside the walls, we try to bring back part of the mane for burial. They're our partners and friends."

As she talks Hange returns to Fives, beginning to stuff any available pockets with apples, grinning at him. "You're going to get spoiled with these beasts! They're truly wonderful friends."

"It's probably not hard to be smarter than sheep," he points out, smiling warmly at her obvious enthusiasm. He likes when people are excited about things.

"That's a pretty impressive speed for a quadruped, they sound amazing." He lifts his arms out of the way, a little startled but more amused as he gets his jeans pockets and then the pouches on his gun belt stuffed full of slightly mushy apples. "Am I meant to feed these to them or just smell so delicious I'll be irresistible?" he asks.

"Feed her, but only a few," Hange says, grinning. "We'll take you out to a small paddock, and I'll instruct you from there. Here, she's this way - don't get in her stall just yet -"

She takes Fives by the shoulders and pushes him down a hallway lined with stalls. The upper doors are open so horses can hang their heads out and looks at passers-by. They are enormous animals with deep dark eyes and watch Hange and Fives curiously. Hange stops in front of a stall where a silvery-dappled mare is housed; the horse is already at the door, ears pricked forward, alert.

"Okay. Feed her a couple apples - not all of them - and stroke her cheeks and nose if she lets you. See how her eyes are on the sides of her head like that? Don't come straight from the front, or from any blind spots. Let her see you reaching. It'll work best if you hold the apple in a flat palm like this - " Hange demonstrates the motion. "And stroke her cheeks as she eats it. I'm going to nip off for a second and lay out the basic tack you need."

Fives lets himself be steered agreeably enough, looking just as curiously back at the horses as they pass. Animals weren't any part of his life before the barge, and he's always interested in them. "Like feeding the sheep, so they don't accidentally bite you."

He digs out an apple as instructed, and presents it on a flat palm, eased in carefully from one side so the mare can see it coming, and laughs a little as her lips tickle his palm. "Hello," he greets her quietly, and presents another apple. "Aren't you pretty," he adds, and reaches to gently stroke her cheek as Hange disappears. He's content to feed her another apple (only the one more, since Hange had said not to give her too many) and stroke her cheeks and the velvet softness of her nose, then up between her eyes and under her forelock.

By the time Hange comes back her head is draped over his shoulder and he's grinning as she snuffles at his belt pouches.

"Haha, very good!"

Yes, this is going to go well. Fives has a stolid nature Hange suspected would make him a good riding student.

She's carrying a soft bridle and leading rope comes over to the mare to fit the bridle on over the head. The leading rope is clipped on under the chin and Hange hands it to Fives and moves to open the stall door. The horse knows what's happening here and moves back a bit to allow for this.

"Alright. We're just going to go to the paddock, and take the rope off there. You lead her - don't keep the rope tight or anything, she knows what's going on."

Fives pets her again, a long stroke down her elegant neck and a gentle skritch under her mane, then heads for the door, watching to make sure the horse follows as expected. He smiles widely when she does.

"She's beautiful," he tells Hange, and rests his free hand on the horses shoulder as he walks next to her, feeling the muscles shift beneath her skin.

In a trice they arrive at the small pen and Hange gestures Fives, and his companion, on in.

"They are lovely, aren't they?"

Scouts really love their horses. Hange watches both Fives and his steed with a soft face and fond expression.

"Alright. Now, let her go and move away from her. Don't look at her, keep your back turned to her. Don't give her any apples."

ic contact

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject