"Slow it down, kiddo. Yer gonna choke." Striker sighed as what he just predicted happened and Jake choked on his sausages for a few seconds. He patted the impling's back firmly until he stopped coughing. "Better?"

"Yeah, daddy. I'm sorry."

Striker ruffled his son's hair playfully. "Ye don't have to apologize, but ye know better than swallowin' before chewin', my boy."

"I'm just excited, daddy!"

"I see that, alright. Don't worry, Jake. There ain't no need to rush it, there's plenty of time for it." he served some more orange juice on Jake's glass.

After breakfast, Striker went to the small stable in the courtyard to saddle up Bombproof, with Jake following suit curiously. Bombproof stretched out its neck, gently pushing his owner's chest in a playful manner. Chuckling, Striker patted the stallion's neck and offered him a slice of boar bacon. Bombproof snorted in delight as he ate the treat.

"Hi, Bomby!" Jake greeted, touching the horse's leg.

"Don't get too close to the rear, pup."

Once Bombproof was properly tacked up, he was led out of the stall and into the courtyard. Jake's tail wagged as he was picked up and placed atop the saddle. He couldn't contain a small gulp as he glanced to the side; wow, Bombproof was taller than what he seemed.

"Here," Striker handed the reins over to Jake. "Make sure ya keep a firm grip on 'em. Straighten up yer back a little bit... Yeah, like that. Do ye remember how to make 'im move?"

"Kick his sides?"

"That's right. Yer legs are a bit too short, so try doin' it where yer toes reach."

Jake swallowed hard and did as told. Nothing happened. Jake tried a few more times, but Bombproof merely snorted. "Daddy, he's not moving."

"If that happens, try kickin' a little harder, but not too much or he might go into a gallop. The actual reason is that I'm holdin' him back." Striker chuckled. Jake realized that his father was holding Bombproof's bridle. "How do ye bring a horse to a halt?"

"Pulling the reins."

"Good. But don't do it at the same time while kicking his sides or ye'll confuse 'im."

Jake nearly panicked as his father stepped back. "Where are you going, daddy?!" Striker grinned.

"Chill out, pup. I ain't goin' anywhere, I'm just giving ye some space." he moved a few feet away. "I want ye to lead Bombproof towards me, slowly."

Jake gulped. "What if he starts running?"

"He won't unless you order him to. It's not that hard, kiddo. Ye can do it."

With another gulp, Jake gently kicked Bombproof's sides again. This time, the stallion walked towards Striker. Jake went tense; he'd been on top of Bombproof a few times, but this was the first time he was riding him alone. He remembered to pull the reins to make him stop right in front of his father.

"See? It wasn't that hard. It won't be long before ye can take Bombproof on full gallop."

"Can I gallop, daddy?"

"Soon, but not yet, pup. Ye gotta learn to walk before learnin' how to run. Ye've seen how to turn, right? I want ye to walk Bombproof around in a circle." Jake did as told, calmly this time. Striker smiled. "Nice. If ye keep doin' it like that, it won't be long before ye can do tricks."

Jake blinked. "Horsies can do tricks like dogs?"

"Not exactly like 'em, but yes. I taught Bombproof a few tricks."

"Can I see?"

Smirking, Striker lifted Jake off the saddle and placed him back on the ground before locking gazes with his horse. "Bombproof, sit." Jake's eyes lit up as the horse did as told.

"He looks like a doggie, daddy!"

Bombproof shot the impling an annoyed look. With an outraged snort, the hellhorse turned around so that his rear was facing them. Striker chuckled.

"Come on, boy. Where's yer sense of humor?" the cowboy patted the stallion's rear only to receive a small smack on the head from Bombproof's tail. Far from getting angry, Striker smirked. "What? Want an apology?" he inquired, hands on his hips. "Is that why yer poutin', big baby boo?" Jake laughed as Bombproof stomped his hoof with an angry neigh. "Well, that's too bad. I was plannin' to give ya these."

Striker searched into his jacket and slipped out a squirming, living mouse. Bombproof's ears flickered backward as the critter squeaked in distress. Bombproof instantly turned around, hungry eyes fixed on the mouse.

"Not so angry now, are ya?" Nevertheless, Striker threw the mouse into the air. Bombproof snatched the snack up in the air.

Curious, Jake tried approaching to take a better look. Bombproof heard something moving behind him; however, he was used to his owner jumping onto his back from behind sometimes, so he didn't react. Striker still pulled Jake back, though.

"Pup, you must never stand behind a horse or ye'll get a nasty kick in the face." Striker chided his son gently.

"Like uncle Blitz?" Jake asked. Striker didn't quite understand why the impling had taken a fancy to refer to his boss as such. Still, the memory of Blitz being kicked in the dick and sent flying brought a small laugh to his face.

"Exactly. Yer lucky that Bombproof knew it was ya and he actually likes ya."