2025-01-28 - Hold Your Horses

Joshua has to do the unthinkable: go to Spellbound Island. His severe anxiety disorder makes such a trek terrifying for him. But someone gave him a line on possible horseback riding lessons. He was told to ask for Grace. So there he sits in his bedroom trying to work up the courage. He opens a drawer and pulls out a bag of weed gummies and picks one up. He is so close to popping the entire thing in his mouth, but thinks better of showing up somewhere that high. So he snaps open a pocket knife from the same drawer and cuts it in half as one of his legs bounces up and down nervously. Then he aaaaalmost pops the half into his mouth. Shaking his head, he cuts the half in half and puts a quarter in his mouth and starts chewing and he puts everything back away.

Some time later, more relaxed but still very functional, Josh shows up at the stables. He ends up standing by one of the paddock fences. He is wearing black corduroy pants that are frayed a bit at the hems, over bright white Adidas tennis shoes. His fleece-lined denim jacket is unbuttoned over a white T-shirt. Dangling around his neck on a lanyard is his employee badge. A curious horse approaches him and he says, "Oh, hi," as he takes several steps back from the fence. He swallows and lifts a hand in a gentle wave. "Hey. I'm Josh." The young man rolls his eyes and mutters to himself, "The horse can't understand you, dumbass." He starts to walk away to find humans but stops and peers over his shoulder to look at the horse again. "You can't understand me, right?" It is Spellbound, after all.

A few minutes later Josh makes his way into a barn to find someone to talk to. "Hello?" he calls out. "I'm, um, I'm looking for someone named Grace."

The sun is shining on this vaguely chilly day, which makes any time in a barn that much sweeter. The scents are both sweet and musky; the mixture of sweet alfalfa hay, straw, grain mixtures with molasses to sweeten the deal, and, well, there is the ever present smell of horse poop. People are moving this way and that, though not as many as would before shift and change of shift. Now, there are relatively few, most of whom are concerned for their assigned/allotted horse of the day. While none of the employees actually own any of the steeds, there are some favorites.

Grace is absolutely in the barn, in a stall with a wide bristled brush in hand, and a pack of small rubber bands tucked away and balanced on the front of the stall. She's on a step-stool, and still she has to reach a little higher to reach the crest of the mane in the attempt to braid it down for work in the morning. Of course, the large bay horse isn't helping much, shifting his head ever so slightly. He's not trying to unbalance her from her step, but just make it a touch harder to do her job.

A laugh, probably one of a few, sounds from the area as a female voice gently scolds, "I know you don't like it. The sooner you keep your head still, the sooner it'll be done. Besides, you look handsome with your mane done up." Grace has a hand on the side of his neck, and her words are a touch muffled as she has a few rubber bands held tightly within her lips for quick access.

The 'hello' gains the notice of some of the horses, absolutely, but moreso the notice of a large grey parrot that shows himself as sitting on the rafters. braaaaawkk sounds loudly, complete with a couple of beak clicks to make the point of his noise. Graaaaace

In case Josh wasn't loud enough, the parrot most certainly is, so the brunette glances over her shoulder, first lifting her gaze to the rafters, and then following the thoughts of the birds (and the horses) down. A sigh exits, a goodnatured one, and she gives the horse another pat on the neck with a whisper, "Don't think you're going to get out of it. I'll be back." Grace steps down from her own perch, and dusting off horse hair and hay and various bits of nose-blows that horses can land on a person, she peeks from her spot in the stall. She's dressed casually; khaki pants, a turtleneck, and a vest. And her paddock boots.

"Hey, I'm Grace," she greets with a smile, though there is curiosity behind it. "Everything okay?"

Hopefully Grace won't take it too personally when Josh looks at the diminutive young woman like an advancing fire-breathing dragon. He is so bad at meeting new people and going new places. It's a literal miracle that he's here at all. Taking a long, slow, deep breath and exhaling with his eyes momentarily closed Josh takes a step forward. "Hi, um, is...is everything okay?" he asks, parroting back Grace's question. He looks around nervously and wipes his palms on his pant legs. "I think...I think so, why? Did...did something happen?" His eyes are open wide like he's feeling guilt or embarrassment or awkwardness or fear or maybe all of the above.

Holding out her hand to quash and dispell any concerns, Grace shakes her head quickly, undoubtedly showing a few pieces of hay that she hadn't felt to remove. "Nononono," she says quickly. "It's just.." That smile hasn't faded, but it turns quickly lightly self-deprecating. "I just don't expect anyone looking for me is all." Her smile quirks to the side, "Still kinda new and all. The only people who'd be looking for me, I bet, would be my old trainer and my parents."

Stepping forward, she extends her hand; and as she lifts her arm, the large grey parrot who'd been perched on high flutters down to land on it. Rolling her eyes, Grace moves her other hand to push under the bird's feathered breast so he'll take hold of that hand, rather than her right. The bird does take the moment to walk up her arm and perch on the young woman's shoulder, clicking his beak.

With that out of the way, Grace's attention is firmly on the young man. Dipping her head slightly, her brows rise, "Okay, let's start over. 'Hi, I'm Grace.'"

It wouldn't take Empathy powers to realize that Josh is very uncomfortable and nervous here. As people walk this way and that going about their busy day, Josh's head whips likewise this way and that taking in the movements and sights and sounds (and smells). One hand is curiously holding part of his unbuttoned, fleece-lined denim jacket as his thumb moves in circles over the fleece. Just steady, slow circles, repeating over and over again.

But that's his handshaking hand, so when Grace extends hers, Josh releases the fabric and takes her hand. His palm and fingers are very warm and soft and his grip is a bit on the weak side. He has the hands of a writer, the hands of a poet. When the shake is done, he re-grips his jacket and repeats the circles with his thumb.

"Oh you're Grace!" he says. "I'm Josh Logan." The dangling employee badge that bears his unmistakable picture confirms this. "I was um...well somebody told me you were giving horse...horseback riding lessons?" He licks dry lips. "I was wondering if that was only for tourists, or if employees could...could do that."

No, Grace can see the younger man is completely and totally out of his element here in the barn. Maybe further out, but it's not something she's noticed. Her own hands are strong, but not overbearing; she's got the upper body strength of a rider, the grip of one. One that knows when to take a hard grasp, and when a light hand is best.

Light hands are always a better option.

Once her own hand is retrieved, she leans against the post that is the stall door, her head canting. "Riding lessons?" Green eyes brighten and she chuckles, "Sure. It wouldn't be official, and I can't charge you anything." Against company policy to use their horses for personal gain. Tips excluded, of course.

Her voice lowers to something a touch more quiet; a secret shared. "You've never ridden before, I'm going to guess?"

The half-coiffed Sebastian pokes his head into the conversation between the pair, interposing himself gently, ears forward. With a couple of snuffles, and blowing out a breath of air meant to land right on Josh's chest, the beast lifts his head quickly when Grace puts her own hand out to gently nudge him back. "Don't get in his face, Sebass. I know you're a mush, but he doesn't." Not yet, anyway.

Finally, Josh's hands slip down into his front pants pockets. Like watching sand slip through a sand timer, one can almost see the anxiety and nervousness slowly slipping away as a result of Grace's charming demeanor.

"No, never," he replies to the woman. "But I can definitely pay you even if it's unofficially. Whatever you charge is totally cool, my parents already said they would pay." He peers down and taps the toe of one shoe against the ground. "Look, here's the deal," he intones thoughtfully. "I'm just gonna say this up front so I don't waste your time if it's not something you wanna get into. I have really, really bad anxiety. I've had it ever since I was a kid. I been to all the doctors, I tried all the medicines. Nothing really works. I was talkin to a dude at the Vine and he mentioned that sometimes people work with horses to help with anxiety." Josh looks back up against, peering directly at Grace with an almost pleading expression on his face. "I'll try anything. So I been sniffin around trying to find someone to give me lessons."

There is a nervous pause as the young man recovers from just putting it all out there for a total stranger, and in a totally strange environment as well.

"My parents will pay whatever," he reaffirms. "They're loaded."

Grace lets Josh get it all out, the words seeming pulled in that state of desperation. There's a perceptible shift in her posture, a relaxing, an even calmer manner and mien, if that was at all possible. There are no interruptions, and even the large headed Sebastian keeps his head just under shoulder height, ears relaxed and to the side, always twitching to sounds.

Her smile shifts again, and there's an understanding. In the horse world, it's a well known 'joke', a total truism in reality, that horses are peoples' therapists, regardless of how they're 'used'. Horses are best friends, the confidantes of countless little girls and boys over the ages, and the one vessel upon which one can feel completely free. At least, ask any equestrian, and they'll happily expound on their mount's virtues.

"They're not wrong," Grace finally answers. "There are actually places that do just that for veterans, for people with PTSD, and for people with motor-skills problems. It all goes away when they're either taking care of a horse or riding it." She straightens from her lean, taking a hold of Sebastian's halter to push him back again. (Pesky horse keeps sneaking up!) "But you don't have to pay me. Don't care if your family's got loads of money." The smile relights and she nods her head quickly; answering whatever questions might be in the air, or in her own head as the decision is made.

"Sure. Let's do it. It'll be a lot of work. Ground work first, then saddle on a lead line so you don't have to worry what the horse is doing. You can focus on yourself. Then, off." Her words hold a lilt in the air; a sound of positivity. "I'll try and make sure you get the same horse each time." Bonding is important! And, just in case?

"It'll be okay."

A smile like the sunrise blooms over Josh's face, reaching his glittering, grateful eyes. It's a shame he doesn't smile more because damn if his face wasn't just made for that expression. He takes half a step forward, almost as if he is going to hug Grace, but then he must think better of it and he reins himself in (SYSTEM MESSAGE: horse pun, +2 XP).

"Really? Oh wow that is so fire!" Josh exclaims, his entire demeanor shifting. He reaches up with both hands and pulls his hair back behind his ears on both sides of his head. "I will do anything. You can put me to work cleaning or shoveling or feeding or whatever is the worst thing around here that nobody wants to do" Wow, yeah, big change in Josh's energy. "Tell me how...how we start? I work over at the Winding Vine and if I'm supposed to be working whenever you're free, I gotta bunch of co-workers I can trade shifts with."

Grace's laugh seemingly sings in the air in echo to the wide smile that seems to take over Josh's entire face. It's a shift of epic proportions, and how can one NOT be happy in the presence of such happiness? She does notice the brief, physical consideration of giving her a hug, and she at least reaches out to lay a hand on his arm.

"Really, yes."

Sebastian's ears swivel forward, his head rising in order to bestow some horsey breath upon Josh, as if to seal the moment. Silly bay horse!

"What I want you to do at the beginning? Spend a day just hanging out. Talk to him," Grace nudges the great beast, and the horse dutifully, finally, takes the stop back, upending her stool seemingly deliberately. "Next day, grab one of those hard brushes, and I'll show you how to brush him, pick his hooves."

During her briefing, Grace pulls out her personal phone, "Let me give you my number. Then, text me so I have yours, and I can send you my schedule. If I'm not working, I'm usually here. Or, well, eating or sleeping." The last bit offers a peek inside the carriage driver's world. Eat, sleep, work, barn. So far, anyway.

Josh nods enthusiastically as Grace lays out the initial plan for how this will unfold. He tugs out his phone, unlocks it, opens the contacts, and hands it to Grace so she can put her deets in. "This is so dope! I didn't even think it would be this easy to set something up.

The young man peers up at the horse who is currently engaged in horse antics and shenanigans. "Hi," he says, lifting one hand briefly. "I'm Josh. Don't worry, I don't weigh all that much."

He waits patiently for Grace to enter her info into his phone. Then he'll send her a text message: <<Hi. Josh Logan here. Thank you! 🙏>>

Phone? Back in his pocket. Hands? Both going into his jacket pockets to relax.

Grace takes the phone a little awkwardly; different phone than she has, and manages to type in 'Grace Wills' and under 'company', just types 'Horse'. Then, her number is quickly thumbed in before she hands it back with a flourish.

"There you go. And Sebastian? All he cares about is when he's going to get his next scritch. Or donut." There's a soft nicker that sounds from the large gelding before Grace nods, "Donut," she confirms. "And he's not worried about your weight. He's a good boy. He'll take it nice and slow for you." To underscore Grace's words, the brown and black horse takes a mouthful of hay, tearing it off the small flake from the corner of the stall and chews it with more than a little deliberateness. Grace laughs and exhales, "He's just mad because no one brought him one and all he has is his hay."

Her own phone chirrps, and there lies the message. It's a quick motion to set the info into her contacts before she nods definitively. "Perfect. I'll send you a copy of my schedule by tonight. If you see a time you can fit in, shoot me a text and I'll see you here."

Josh watches the horse with a much more relaxed demeanor now that things seem to be working out way better than his broken brain could have hoped for. "Well I don't blame. I'd way rather eat a donut than hay."

"Grace, no shit, thank you for this," Josh says with an earnest, grateful expression that belies his young age. He holds out a fist gently offering a fist-bump. "When I get your schedule I'll set something up right away. I can't wait. It was so fire to meet you. Thank you."