[He's laughing, that low, raspy belly-laugh of his that hardly ever comes out. He's got a tight handle on his horse, has her jump over a rock and she lands perfectly.]
[He can't let go of the reins long enough to pat her hand, but he would if he could. Instead, he leads them further down the road. He bends down low over the horse, showing her how to keep tight control of the animal and create less resistance at the same time. He keeps it up for a good five minutes, after which he takes pity on the made-up horse and slowly brings her back to a trod. His heart is hammering, his eyes are bright, his hands restless on the reins.]
[Tess’s heart is pounding in the same way it might after a Clicker encounter with a happy ending. She’s not dead but it feels like it might have been a possibility — dramatic, but it’s an intense feeling. She doesn’t let go just in case he starts again, just bumps him in the shoulder with her forehead.]
No heart attacks. [ Thankfully. She eases off just a bit, plucking up her dignity. Do not cling to your warden like a wood tick.] Fastest thing I’ve been on in years.
[He takes them riding just as fast as before, but a little longer. Goes up a hill, jumps when it's safe but still a little exciting. Finally, when he's got it out of his system, he pulls the horse to a halt and leans over it, patting its neck, giving it a few oats he mysteriously still has in his hip bag.]
[Tess does note how funny it is to just... carry around oats... but she also assumes it's just enclosure shenanigans. She mostly still thinks it's weird to be on a horse.]
So when you conjure up a horse in this place, is it just a random horse, or is this a specific horse with a name and all?
[Maybe men are the same way with their horses as they are with their dogs, and all.]
It don't do specific people, and it don't do specific horses. [Yes, men are the same way with their horses as they are with their dogs. They also miss them. Sadface.]
[How anyone could tell the difference between an Enclosure horse and a real one is wholly a mystery to Tess, but people have so many feelings about their animals.]
[ The bond between man and fake horse runs deep. She’ll rib him for it, but it’s admittedly nice to see that kind of sentiment out of a man. Out of anyone still hardened, actually. ]
You gonna be sad to leave her behind when you get out of here?
[She's more than happy to hop down, feeling bandy-legged and rattled by the whole thing, but it wasn't awful. Kind of fun under the thought that she could fall and crack her head open, actually.]
They probably don't live real long in your line of work. Some guys I know, they go through a dog a year if they're lucky.
Sometimes it's best to leave 'em behind if they're likely to make you with the law. Sometimes you gotta steal another one. I don't like it, but it's a fact of life.
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I’m sure I would! Takes the fun out of deciding who deserves a second bullet, though.
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[Because he'd promised fast, and the moment she holds on he spurs his horse on to go fast.]
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[She does hold on, and even with a warning, she yelps when he kicks off, and she holds on even tighter. Holy shit.]
Jesus christ!
[She's fine, just loud. This is the fastest-moving thing she's been on for years.]
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[He's laughing, that low, raspy belly-laugh of his that hardly ever comes out. He's got a tight handle on his horse, has her jump over a rock and she lands perfectly.]
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You are crazy!
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[He can't let go of the reins long enough to pat her hand, but he would if he could. Instead, he leads them further down the road. He bends down low over the horse, showing her how to keep tight control of the animal and create less resistance at the same time. He keeps it up for a good five minutes, after which he takes pity on the made-up horse and slowly brings her back to a trod. His heart is hammering, his eyes are bright, his hands restless on the reins.]
Hot damn.
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I can’t believe you get around that way.
[It wasn’t half as bad as she was imagining.]
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[He reaches back with one big, warm hand to pat her knee, still laughing.]
I can't believe you don't get around this way. You okay? No heart attacks, miss?
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You seem like the kinda lady who'd enjoy fast, wild things.
If you didn't have a heart attack, that mean you're up for some more?
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Not a lot of ways to scratch that particular itch in a place like this. But sure, I’m up for it.
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[She braces herself for it and settles in hanging onto him again.]
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So when you conjure up a horse in this place, is it just a random horse, or is this a specific horse with a name and all?
[Maybe men are the same way with their horses as they are with their dogs, and all.]
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You call up the same fake horse every time, then?
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Yes. He isn't going to admit to it out loud.]
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You’re such a sap. What did you name it?
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[ The bond between man and fake horse runs deep. She’ll rib him for it, but it’s admittedly nice to see that kind of sentiment out of a man. Out of anyone still hardened, actually. ]
You gonna be sad to leave her behind when you get out of here?
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Don't think so. It's good to have a good bond with your horse, helps in tight spots. But horses do come and go.
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They probably don't live real long in your line of work. Some guys I know, they go through a dog a year if they're lucky.
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From:cw: era-appropriate but still racist term
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