2024-03-23 - Entering the Lists

Drea stares at the false wood and iron facade of the back of the arena's door, her mouth caught up in a tight line. The park is closed, so she doesn't have to worry about crowds yet, but even just walking through the underground tunnels, it's so utterly different than anything she's used to. Sure, Minnesota and Ohio are big, hundreds of thousands of people huge, but this is a whole different level. A corporate level that doesn't sit right with Drea.

The big black stallion standing almost-patiently alongside Drea snorts and nudges her shoulder. Drea snorts right back and reaches up to stroke the horse's nose. "Yeah, yeah. We can go in." She pushes at one of the doors and then the other, and they swing open almost soundlessly, revealing the extent of the arena. "After you, Oh High Lord of the Night Court." She gives a little twitch of the lead to let him know that he can go through the gate.

Apparently, Rhysand takes going first as his due, because he starts forward into the grassy surface, and Drea follows along beside him. Just who is leading who may indeed be up for debate, but at least it's a comfortable companionship. She's halfway out into the arena when she realizes just how huge it is. "Holy shit." Tossing Rhysand's lead over the horse's shoulder, she turns in place, taking in the expanse of the stands. "Gods, this place is huge."

Drea gives a low whistle, then half-turns back to the black stallion, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Looks like we've come a long way from squabbling for a purse that just barely keeps you in feed, Rhys." Crouching down, she plucks at the grass and scuffs up some of the dirt between her fingers, "And a long way from mud-pits whenever it rains. This has got to cost a fortune."

Pushing back up to her feet, she turns toward Rhysand, "What do you think? Maybe we can put up with timesheets and more fake fighting if it means getting to play in here. I might miss the camper though." The stallion whickers and tosses his head, and Drea looks over with a shake of her head, "Yeah, okay, so you won't miss the trailer. What do you think, want to stretch your legs a little?"

Rhysand gives a little whinny, and tosses his head again, stepping about eagerly, and Drea laughs softly, reaching up to stroke his neck, "As you command, Your Darkness." She comes around to get her foot in a stirrup and swing up into the wing-backed jousting saddle. Gathering up the lead and reins, she guides Rhysand back over to one end of the lists. They linger there for a moment, turning to face the length of the arena.

Drawing in a breath, Drea sits up straight in the saddle, then clicks her tongue and touches Rhysand's sides lightly with her heels. The stallion starts at a walk, and then quickly rises to a trot. His strides eat up the distance of the lists, and Drea holds her right arm out to her side as if holding a lance. They close on the midpoint, and she calls, "Charge on!"

Rhysand's hooves thunder into a gallop, and Drea rises up, leaning into an imaginary lance blow before they pass the midway point in the arena and Rhysand slows down again, covering the second half of the arena and then turning back to face the lists with barely a touch of the reins. She can almost feel his excitement matching her own, and she leans down over his neck, patting and rubbing his neck and chest, "That's right, you big sexy beast, this could be really good for us."