Phil carefully brushed the mare's coat, applying the right amount of pressure to effectively brush off as many stray hairs as possible. The brush felt warm in his hand and he liked the sensation, especially when coupled with the smell of the fresh hay and the distinct scent that was horse. Sidestepping to avoid the shake of her head, he chuckled as the relatively young horse let out a sneeze, patting her nose affectionately. Nostrils flaring, she nudged his shoulder softly, and in turn he rubbed her long neck, marvelling at how smooth her coat was. Opening the stall door, he peeked around, double checking that nobody else was in the stables, reaching his hand into his back pocket and offering a sugar cube. He giggled at the rough tongue licking the remaining sugar crumbs from his hand.
"Our secret, okay girl?" He whispered, the mare grunting in response. The right corner of his mouth twisted into a half smile, a final pat his signal of a farewell. He checked that she had plenty of water, drawing the door closed once he was satisfied and bolting in so that he couldn't escape.
"Phil? Philip? PHIL?" He heard his mother calling for him, rushing off in the general direction of her voice until he found her in the office.
Her long brown hair, a similar colour to his own before he'd dyed it black, was pulled back in a messy ponytail, as was habit for her, for it kept the hair out of her eyes and was not ruined by wearing a riding hat. Her eyes were narrowed slightly, hinting that she was stressed, her expression looking worn and tired.
"Yeah mum?" She looked up, almost surprised by his presence, obviously too wrapped up it whatever was concerning her to hear his footsteps.
"Valerie called in sick, there's simply no way she can take lessons today. I can't cover and none of the other girls can. You're 17 and a better rider than anyone else I know. Please cover for me?" Pleased by the compliment, it did not fool Phil into accepting straight away.
"Who is it?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head.
"New girl. Beginner. It will be easy." He nodded slightly. That didn't sound too bad.
"How old?"
"Nine." Phil shook his head frantically.
"No. No way. Some brat that won't do what I tell her? No. I won't do it." He replied, crossing his arms tighter as a display of his displeasure at what he was being asked to do.
"Please Phil; I need you to do this." Phil sighed and paused for a second, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.
"Fine. But I get the inside arena. It's bloody cold out there." His mother cracked a smile, standing and pulling him into a slightly awkward half hug. "And I want to do it on horseback. Standing around is boring." His mother nodded, letting him go and returning to her paperwork.
"Lesson is in an hour. Get changed, saddle up Jigsaw. It's a two hour lesson; the kid's parents have got more money than sense apparently." Phil chucked and shook his head slightly, almost tripping over the step on the way out and falling face first into the mud.
They lived on site, which made sense really since running a stable was a full time job, requiring daily care for the horses. He didn't mind, he was use to the smell and never really noticed it anymore, and it was undeniably beautiful, with a small stream running along the gravel path to his house, shadowed by a forest. Towards the bank, the trees were small and far apart, but the foliage became much denser the further into the forest you went so it was almost impossible to navigate. Apart from riding, it was his favourite thing to do. He spent entire days there, even as he was approaching adulthood, still finding the thrill of exploration as exhilarating as his childhood self. He rode there sometimes, taking his black mare out along trails that were non-existent until he created them, hacks that could last hours depending on when one of them became worn out (which was always him.) Smiling at these thoughts, he unlocked the faded green door to the stone cottage he lived in. It seemed almost silly really, locking the door, but although they lived in the middle of nowhere, a nosy client could easily slip in and steal any number of things if both he and his mum were absorbed in their work, which they often were. He tossed his keys onto the side, stripping off his jumper and checking the time on his phone. He still had 56 minutes until his student got here, so he decided he had time to shower.
After spending longer getting clean than he'd intended to, Phil threw on a pair of old jeans that were torn at the knees, but would do for riding, a t-shirt and the same jumper he'd left discarded in the living room earlier. He locked up, keys safely in his back pocket, making a mental note to give them to his mum so he wouldn't lose them while riding. He poked his head in the doorway of the office, coughing to catch her attention, tossing the keys her direction. He didn't stay long enough to see if she caught them, but judging from the absent sound of metal colliding with concrete he assumed she had. He jogged to the stable, noticing his mare lift her head as he passed, blowing her a kiss as he went past. He checked his phone; 31 minutes to go. He had plenty of time to saddle Jigsaw up, get his horse ready, and mentally prepare himself for his lesson.
He brushed Jigsaw's back and girth area, removing all the dirt so the horse wouldn't feel any discomfort. He positioned himself on the left side of her body as was usual, routinely checking for sores that would prevent Jigs from being able to ride. He placed the blanket on her back, sliding it into place and adjusting it so that it was even. He lifted the saddle high, gently placing it and again sliding it into place, patting the horse's neck softly. He smoothed out the blanket and buckled the girth, reaching beneath the horse so he could fasten it, tightening it slowly until it was tight enough to hold the saddle in place, checking that he hadn't fastened it too tight by standing in front of Jigsaw's head and lifting her front legs one at a time, slowly and carefully so as not to frighten her. He decided that he would rather teach from the ground as it was his first time, figuring that he would ride his own horse later. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he took hold of her reigns and led her from the stable, closing the door to her stall behind her as he led her into the arena. He readied a block in the centre of the arena for the new girl so that she'd be able to reach the stirrups.
In the five minutes before the girl arrived he ran through everything he'd learned when he was young. He figured that he would teach her how to steer, walk, and if she could deal with that, trot. Her entrance, exactly on time, both relieved him and increased the butterflies in his stomach a hundred times over.
"Hey there, I'm Phil; I'll be your riding instructor today. Louise, right?" He'd had the sense right at the last minute to check the registers and find out his pupil's name. She nodded shyly and looked at her feet, scuffing the toes of her boots against the sand. "Do you like horses Louise?" She looked up, shaking her head in confirmation and smiling slightly at Jigsaw. She was a good choice for the little girl before him, gentle and smaller than a lot of other horses, good with children.
"You can call me Lou." She whispered, clearly just as nervous as Phil was. He smiled at her, gesturing to the horse with his head.
"This is Jigsaw. She's little, just like you. Would you like to stroke her?" He said softly, so that he wouldn't scare her.
"Can I?" Phil nodded his approval, his nerves easing at the delight that crossed her face as she reached up to stroke the mare's neck, smoothing the coarse hairs against her palm. After a stretch of time spanning maybe half a minute, the girl dropped her hand, looking up at him expectantly.
"Ready to ride her?" Phil asked, grinning at her eager nod. "Want me to lift you, or do you want to try and get on yourself?"
"Myself." Was the soft reply. He watched cautiously as she climbed the blocks even though they were only a few steps high, arms out so he could catch her if she fell.
"We always get on from the left side." He explained, pointing to the stirrup near her feet. "You place your left foot in that, grab the reigns, and then swing your other leg over. Easy, right?" Lou looked unsure, so he held her waist loosely as she grasped onto the reigns far too tightly, but effectively sitting on the mare. Phil smiled at her, nodding encouragement. "That was good! Little looser on the reigns next time in case you spook her, but you did a good job."
"First off, we'll just get you used to being on a horse. Hold the reigns loosely, about where your saddle begins, and hook your pinky finger underneath so you have a good grip on them. Got it?" She nodded, doing as he asked, pleased with his praise. "You're not very talkative are you?" He asked and she shook her head, to which they both giggled. "I'll lead you round at first. If you get too uncomfortable, or you feel ready to take the next step and do it by yourself, let me know. Familiarise yourself with the letters on the wall, you see? I'll use them to tell you where to go. And let go of the reins for now so I can tell her where to go." She did as she was told, and he took the reins in his right hand, using the accustomed click to signal the horse to walk on. Jigsaw did so, Phil tugging gently every so often to lead her in the right direction. The silence was only broken by the soft thud of hooves on sand, and occasionally Phil asking if Louise was okay or ready to continue.
When the young girl was confident enough, Phil let her take the reins herself, demonstrating how to use them and checking her technique was correct before allowing her to continue. Under his careful eye, Louise led Jigsaw around the arena several times before the girl had visibly relaxed, hunching her shoulders slightly and releasing the tension. "Remember to keep your back straight, shoulders back. It's easier for her to carry you that way. Point your toes out, balls of your feet on the stirrups. That's it, just like that." Phil offered continual advice and encouragement, also becoming more relaxed as he quickly settled into the role of mentor. It was natural for him, the ability to guide others without seeming patronising or bored, balancing enthusiasm with advice to create an easy environment that both he and his student could work in. Louise was a quick learner, confident enough to try a trot. It was difficult to pick up, but she managed not to fall off the horse, clearly slightly shocked by the experience, her eyes wide. Having explained how to execute the rising trot, Phil stepped back into the middle of the arena and allowed her to practice. Her rhythm was far from perfect; he would have been surprised if it was. It was an excellent effort, especially for a beginner of her age, and he told her so, wrapping up the lesson.
He helped her to dismount, again holding her waist gently so that she wouldn't fall and injure herself, although it was unlikely. "Is anyone here to pick you up?" Phil asked, patting Jigsaw in congratulations, making a mental note to sneak her a sugar cube later. The girl nodded timidly, pointing to the viewing area where a boy of similar age to himself was standing, smiling slightly. He could see that he was tall, tanned, and dark haired, but that's all that he could make out at this distance. Not that it mattered. He wasn't interested in friends. With a gentle push to her shoulder, he gestured the young girl over to the kid he assumed was her brother, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth to signal the mare to walk on, leading her at a slow pace from the arena.
He couldn't shift the feeling of the unrelenting stare of the boy, a fly on his body that still tickled him no matter how hard he tried to ignore him. He was too shy to meet his gaze for more than a fraction of a second before his eyes flickered away, landing on something much more interesting, like say, the ground. In the short time he had to examine them, he could find no particular emotion in the eyes apart from curiousity, but the sheer beauty of those eyes, a colour that reminded him of a russet the colour of wolves, reflected with all the fire and intensity that wolves possessed, an outer ring closer to the colour of charcoal and reminding him of brandy towards the centre. The closer he got, they harder it was to shake the feeling of being watched, but as he opened the gate to let Louise through, to his relief, the feeling disappeared. He glanced up to see the slim figure crouching, taking off the girl's helmet with careful, slender fingers. For something to do while they greeted each other, exchanging smiles and laughter and jokes with that goddamn voice of his, he scratched at the back of his neck, drawing his arm away to scratch behind Jigsaw's ear gently. He risked a glimpse, seeing that the boy was now standing. He was suddenly very interested in the ground, scuffing the toes of his converse against the gravel. "If you go, uh, wait in the office, Amanda can sort you out, and yeah.." Phil hurried away, his strides longer than normal. He threw a weak smile over his shoulder as he heard Louise shout a thanks at him, turning back to try and calm his breathing.
Phil smiled to himself as he fed Jigsaw his last sugar cube, making another mental note to buy more the next time he had the chance. Her low nicker, an indication of her hello, encouraged him to scratch between her ears and reply with a soft "hey, beautiful."
"Hey." Phil squeaked, whirling round, his distress obvious, in turn causing the mare to panic, rearing onto her hind legs. Phil dodged, narrowing his eyes at the dark haired boy, showing his discontent with his actions, but dismissing him quickly. He was not the important thing right now. He focused on relaxing his body to show Jigsaw that there was no danger, allowing her to calm down, but her blows informed him that she was still on edge. Gentle words slipped from his lips as he stroked her neck until she was calm, only then turning to fully glare at the boy that got under his skin.
"You're not allowed in here." Phil muttered quietly, ignoring the returning sense of unease that his presence induced. The boy just shrugged, offering nothing in the way of an apology. "That was a polite way of telling you to get the fuck out." Phil kept his voice low and as unthreatening as possible as could while still conveying his message so that no more horses would be spooked.
"Give me a good reason I should." Phil kept his anger under control, not even gritting his teeth at the attitude of this boy, clearly used to getting what he wanted without working for it.
"You spooked Jigsaw. If I hadn't moved, I probably would've been killed. Horses are strong and violent when they're scared."
"Jigsaw? Stupid name." Phil clenched his fingers into fists, resisting the urge to lash out and punch him in the face. Hard.
"My dad named her."
"So?"
"He's dead." The expression was wiped off his face, replaced by one slightly startled and with a hint of regret, but Phil didn't buy it for a second.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" Phil cut him off with a shake of his head.
"Just leave it." Phil muttered, uncurling his hands and turning away with the intention of walking out, when a hand grabbed his elbow and restricted his movement.
"I'm Dan." He said, more gently than before.
"Phil." He mumbled, shaking the arm off, stalking away, looking over his shoulder and stopping after a few steps, adding a slight undertone of menace to his voice. "And like I said. Get the fuck out."
